


Run, Buddy, Run

by Beserk



Series: Run, Buddy, Run [1]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Canon, Stalking, spoilers for comic book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-12 00:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 111,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beserk/pseuds/Beserk
Summary: Billy likes having a partner he doesn’t have to be careful with, someone he can unleash on without worrying he'd get hurt. It isn't like Billy enjoys causing pain, or harbors any kind of deep anger. He just…likes violence. There's something deep inside him that really, really enjoys violence. He holds on to Homelander hard enough that if he was anyone else he'd sport bruises for weeks. He bites into Homelander and scratches his back and when he's riding Homelander he grasps his hair and pull hard enough to tear, using it as an anchor.





	1. 2008: Part 1

He puts on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a baseball cap and sneakers, and goes down to the bar. It's the first and only time he'll ever do something like that, but it's burned into his memory because of what it manages to achieve.

It's odd, sitting there in the dark, looking around and having no one look back at him. No one who gravels, no mudpeople asking for a photo, for a prayer, for a touch, just to be in his presence. At first he kind of likes the anonymity, the fact that he's free to watch. But very quickly he realizes there isn't much too watch, they're all so boring. The fuckers aren't doing anything, just sitting around. He can hear every single one of them, and none of them are saying anything worth listening to. If it wasn't for his fucking reputation he'd laser each and every one of those boring fuckers. Can't they entertain him? What's the point of their existence?

"Are you waitin' to be recognized?"

It takes Homelander a moment to realize that someone's talking to him. He turns around and his eyes immediately find the speaker in the dark. He's sitting a few tables away, by himself, though the various drinks strewn about make it clear he hadn't been sitting there alone for long. Probably abandoned by his friends when the hour got to late. There's loyalty for you. He's not even looking up at Homelander, but down at the table, with a small, amused smile on his face like Homelander's a fucking joke.

Homelander lets his eyes trail the man for a moment. He's got black hair and dark eyes, a strong build and overall handsome look. He's dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, and Homelander can see the outline of a few guns and knifes on his body. Some kind of cop, then. Great. Homelander so does not feel like flashing out the 'you're the real hero', card. He thinks he might just explode and laser the man if he has too. And what a shame that would be, to ruin that nice package.

"They ain't gonna," The man continues, and chugs the drink, speaking quiet enough that only Homelander can hear. And, yeah, what kind of accent is that? Homelander racks his brain until he recognizes it. Cockney. A British cop.

Homelander stands up, frowning at the odd sensation of moving without his cape. He's not used to walking without it, other than when he's naked. Which he's definitely planning on being, right now. Homelander almost grabs the man and simply takes him out back, like he'd do with anyone else he thought was good looking enough to deserve his cock in their various holes. But there's something…a twinkle in the man's eye. And for once Homelander wants to try a different tactic.

So, instead, he walks over to the table and sits down without being invited. The man simply raises an eyebrow and leans backwards on the chair, looking at Homelander for the first time. And there's nothing. No adoration, no awe, nothing. The man looks slightly bored, and that's all. It's…an entirely new experience. And Homelander doesn’t instantly hate it.

"How do you know they won't?" Homelander spreads his arms and gives the man his most charming smile. "You seem to know who I am."

The man snorts, "God, you looked pathetic, sittin' there all by your lonesome. Don't you have big Supe friends to spend time with?"

Homelander is torn between three separate urges. The urge to laser the fucker right then and there, the urge to grab him by the throat and plant him on the table and shove his cock into his mouth, and the urge to fly him off to one of his many apartments, where he can do the same but just longer. Somehow, he resists all three urges, and just smiles again. Gives a little laugh, as well, just to make sure that he's selling it.

"You know, I'm just a normal guy deep down, and sometimes I just want to remind myself of that. To make sure I never forget where I came from."

The man blinks at him for a moment, and then smiles, and Homelander wonders how someone's smile can look both sweet and condescending at the same time. It's very odd. He takes another sip of his drink and says, "Does that actually work on people, those speeches? Bloody hell, you sound ridiculous."

Homelander's smile fades, and he feels a chink fall of the mask he always wears. It's not enough to send the man running for the hills, but it's enough to get his full attention. He's still not scared, as Homelander leans in, but he looks more intrigued, like he thinks maybe Homelander might just be worth his while.

"Like a charm, every time," Homelander whispers to the man, who's eyes are following him intently. "Except now, isn't that right?"

"That's right," The man doesn’t whisper back, and pushes away from Homelander. He looks at him, searching his face. "First time for everything, yeah, mate?"

"Yeah," Homelander mumbles, and leans back as well. "What's your name?"

The man tilts his head slightly, "Now why would I tell you that?"

"Well, let's see," Homelander looks straight into the man's coat, where an CIA ID badge lays. "William Butcher, CIA. Recent arrival from London, I see?"

William Butcher scrutinizes Homelander and then says dryly, "That's a rather serious invasion of privacy, don't you think?"

"Sorry, sorry," Homelander plasters the smile on again, but he can tell it's not working. He lets it fall off. "Well, you weren't going to tell me, where you?"

William snorts, "Don't give you the right to go snooping."

If he gets up and leaves, Homelander will just follow him. Take him away. But he doesn’t want that, this is so much more interesting. So he breathes out and says, "I was curious. I've never actually met anyone who wasn't in awe of me."

William frowns, "How can you tell-"

"Heartbeat."

"Ah," William drums his fingers on the table. He looks like he's contemplating something, and then he clears his throat. "Billy."

"Huh?"

"I go by Billy, not William. Hate that bloody name. William. Stuffy old geezer name, that's what it is."

Homelander grins, and by the way Billy smirks back, he can tell it looks as real as it felt. He's never met anyone who could tell the difference.

*

Throughout the next hour, Homelander learns that Billy used to work for MI6, that before that he was a cop in London, and moved to New York and the CIA around a month earlier. When asked why he left London, Billy snorts and replies, "Why? You wanna know if there's anything wrong with the homestead? London's bloody fine."

"But you still left."

Billy snorts, "Never wanted to try anything new?"

"Not really," There wasn't really much to improve when you were already a god among men.

"That's fucking borin', mate."

Homelander finds that, oddly, he's not getting angry at Billy anymore when he insults him. It seems to be just the way Billy talks. And besides, Homelander can't get over the novelty of actually having someone talk to him like that. He thinks, though, that if anyone else would do it he would have to laser them or maybe pull their heart out. But Billy is both pretty and interesting enough to get away with it.

He also learns that Billy had gone drinking with his co-workers from the CIA, but that they'd all left before Homelander showed up. He'd been about to go, to, until he recognized Homelander sitting by himself 'like a bloody pathetic tosser.'

"You keep calling me pathetic. But you're the only one that recognized me. I think," Homelander wiggles his finger at Billy. "You're a fan, that's why you recognized me."

"Mate, that ain't why," Billy rolls his eyes. "These cunts, they didn't recognize you because they don't want to. No one wants to see their god sitting alone in a bar. So, they ignore it. Pathetic, pathetic. You're all pathetic."

"I'm nothing like them," Homelander snarls, and Billy shrugs.

"If you say so," Billy places the empty cup on the table and starts to stand up. "Well, this was…nice, but I gotta go. Got work in a few hours."

Billy starts to walk past Homelander, and he reaches out, grabs at Billy's wrist, tugging him over. The black-haired man raises an eyebrow, and smirks, like he's been fucking expecting this. That is almost enough to make Homelander pull away and just do what he usually does and take what he wants from him, but then Billy leans over and whispers in his ear.

"If you wanna fuck me, you should just ask."

*

Billy takes him to his apartment, in his car. He drives like a madman, which might be because he's slightly drunk, but Homelander thinks might just be because he's Billy. And Billy doesn’t seem to be afraid of the things that Billy should logically be afraid of.

It's fascinating. Much more fascinating then any mudperson in Homelander's experience. He lets Billy lead him in to his apartment, which is a one-bedroom, tiny thing that Billy finds almost insulting to his senses. He doesn't have time to take the apartment in, he's too busy grabbing Billy and pushing him into the bedroom, but later, after he's come four times, he'll notice that Billy's apartment is neat and sparse, that the only personal touches are the pictures on the wall, which show Billy's family and friends from both London and New York. He'll notice that Billy's in the middle of all the pictures, the clear leader no matter where he goes.

But right now, all he can think of is getting Billy into the bed. He doesn’t usually fuck in a bed, but Billy's special. He should get the special treatment. So he moves to take Billy to the bed, but by the time he's gotten himself under control, Billy's already slipped into it bed and grabbed a few things from the nightstand. A bottle of lube and condom.

"Ah, nah, nah," Homelander shakes his head and points at the condom. "I'm not putting that on."

Billy snorts and places the condom in between them, on the bed, while Homelander hovers above him. It doesn't work, Billy isn't cowed. He just raises an eyebrow and says, "That don't go on, your cock don't go into me, yeah?"

It's cute, that Billy thinks he'd have a choice in the matter. But Homelander decides to humor him anyways. He's never fucked with a condom before, and today is full of firsts. Why not add another one?

"All right, pal," Homelander shrugs and picks up the condom, looking it over. "I'll accommodate you, just this time. Because you're pretty."

"Lucky me," Billy says dryly, and picks up the bottle of lube. He starts coating his fingers and, oh, no, no. No way is Homelander letting Billy prepare himself. He's going to do that.

Homelander doesn’t often prepare the people he fucks. He likes going into him raw, seeing the blood run down their thighs, hear their pained screams. On the rare occasions where he does prep them, he uses spit. He places his fingers into their mouth and tells them to suck. It will hurt less the more they lather it up. When he tells them that, they usually suck on his fingers with impressive vigor. He's never actually used lube before, but no fucking way is he letting Billy's fingers go anywhere near Billy's hole. Only his fingers will go there.

"Give me that," Homelander growls and slumps down on the bed, looming over Billy. Billy snorts and shrugs, handing him the bottle.

"You're a bossy one, ain't yeah?" Billy snorts and grabs Homelander's shirt, pulling it off. Homelander lets him, and then takes hold of Billy and shoves off his shirt and grabs both of his wrists, pining them over his head. Billy thrusts once with his legs before snorting again and collapsing into the bed, smirking. Homelander hovers over him, their bodies align, eyes scanning down the man's body. His chest is chiseled and sculptured and smooth. Homelander licks his lips. He's going to mark that clean chest.

Homelander keeps his hold on Billy's wrists with one hand, and uses the other to coat his fingers with lube. He leans down, releasing Billy's wrists for a moment to he can pull his own pants and underwear down before doing the same for Billy's pants, exposing his black boxers. He can see the bulge of Billy's cock straining against the material, and feels his own grow hard in response. He's always been able to get hard at a moment's notice, so by the time he cups Billy's dick through the black material, his cock is painfully hard, slapping against his thighs, and he's ready and revving to go.

But Billy isn't yet. Homelander has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he pulls down Billy's underwear. Billy's cock is at around half mass, but his heart rate is still at 60, his resting pace, not elevated at all. Homelander bites his lip, and suddenly there's nothing he wants more than to make that heart rate rise and rise, to see Billy pant and groan underneath him, to see him come completely undone as Homelander pushes into him, ravages his body like it's a doll for him to use, and have Billy scream out for him to go harder, faster, to come inside of him and mark him and claim him, to brand him as Homelander's so no one else could ever use him the same way.

Billy looks up at him, eyebrow raised, waiting to see what he will do. Homelander smirks at the unspoken challenge in the man's eyes and grabs Billy's legs, pushing them apart to allow Homelander access into the crevasse of his body. Homelander swallows at the sight of Billy's puckered and pink hole. He leaves a hand on Billy's left thigh, to keep him open, and sneak in a finger.

First, he runs his finger over Billy's rim, and he hears Billy's breath hitch. His heart rate is elevated to around 65. That's not the dramatic response Homelander expected, but it's a reaction, and Homelander growls and pushes his finger all the way in to his knuckle.

"Jesus fuck!" Billy pushes down into Homelander's finger, and now his heart rate is at 70. He's panting slightly, and Homelander looks up to see hat his pupils are slightly dilated. "Impatient, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Homelander growls. He lets go of Billy's thigh to place his hand on the side of Billy's face, pushing up so their faces are aligned. He's hovering again, an inch over Billy, and Billy pants out, his breath hitting Homelander's, and he can smell the alcohol on his breath. Billy blinks up at him, eyes growing wide as Homelander slips in another finger, pushing deep, deep into him. Billy's body clenches around his digits, and he groans out in appreciation. Fuck, Billy feels good. He wants his cock in that tight hole, right now.

But if he does, Billy's pupils will return to normal, and anger will probably flash in them, and it will turn into a fight. And Homelander doesn’t want that. For the first time in his life, he wants to make love, not fuck. Homelander shakes his head and pushes the uncomfortable thought away. But he stays in place, and slips in a third finger.

Billy groans and his head falls backwards, exposing his throat. Homelander leans in, licks a stripe of that long white skin, tasting Billy on his tongue. Billy hisses as Homelander starts moving his fingers in and out, pumping faster and faster. Billy pants, his heart rate is finally as elevated as Homelander wants it, his eyes are closed and his head thrown backwards. Homelander pants as well, so hard it hurt, and he licks Billy's throat, his ear, his jaw, and then leans down to his chest and bites.

"Fuck-" Billy grasps Homelander's hair, tugging so hard he can feel some hairs pulled out of his skull, and pushes him closer, closer, until Homelander is almost laying on top of Billy. "Bloody _fuckin' _hell-get in there, now."

Homelander doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs Billy's body and flips him, positioning him on his knees with his ass in the air. He hovers above Billy's body, running his fingers over his hard ass cheeks, dipping in and out for a moment, enjoying the hiss of breath that comes out of Billy's mouth as he does so. Billy's body is his, he's bringing it pleasure, it belongs to him now. Homelander leans in and bites down on the back of Billy's neck, and Billy lets out a string of curses that Homelander promptly ignores. When he moves away, there's an angry red spot on Billy's flushed skin. There. Marked.

"Listen, you cunt, if you don't get in there-fuck, fuck!"

Homelander groans as he settles into Billy, his cock surrounded by that wonderful heat. He places an arm around Billy's torso, pushing him in against Homelander, while the other hand rests, gently, against Billy's throat. He hovers in the air, and slowly partway withdraws from Billy's body before slamming back in. As he does, he and Billy groan out together. The second time he does this, Billy yelps out, arching his back in a curve, and Homelander knows he's found that spot.

And so he slams in again, and again, over and over and over, hitting Billy's prostate every time. His cock is hard and almost painful as he pounds into Billy's body, the pleasure is so strong. Billy is letting out a string of curses, heartrate racing, sweat drenching his body, face buried into a pillow. God, this might be the best fuck Homelander's hand since-

Ever, actually.

Homelander tightens his hold on Billy's torso and hoists him up, against his chest. Billy pants out, and Homelander can feel the breath go in and out his throat through his hand there. He takes his hand off Billy's throat and places it on his chest, anchoring him in place as he flies into the air, keeping the rhythms of his thrusts level as he molds Billy's body against his.

And then Billy thrusts back into him, and Homelander comes into Billy's warm body. Billy pants and groans, and Homelander, a bit dazed from the force of his orgasm, floats them down to the bed, and settles down with Billy laying over him, panting hard. He's still inside of Billy, and could get himself hard again in a moment if he needs to. Billy's still hard, Homelander notes. He can smell the arousal on him. Homelander smirks and places his hands under Billy, pulling him off his cock, making Billy hiss in discomfort.

"Your turn," Homelander whispers into Billy's ear, biting it gently. Billy groans in response, and allows himself to be laid out on the bed, legs spread. Homelander licks his lips and dives down.

_This_ he's done before, actually. And he's very good at it. He enjoys sucking, so…

"Fuckin' hell," Billy groans as Homelander swallows him up in one go, sucking hard and already tasting some precome on his tongue. "Who knew Homelander was such a good cocksucker?"

Homelander hits Billy on the thigh, not hard enough to hurt (it's basically a swat for him), but hard enough to make a point. Billy just laughs, sounding almost hysterical, his body slick with sweat as Homelander keeps sucking him, relentless. He hollows his cheeks to take Billy in deeper, licking at the head. And then Billy's hips jerk up and Homelander grabs his hips with his two hands and pins them down to stop him from thrusting up into him again.

It only take a few minutes of work before Homelander ca smell the orgasm building in Billy's pit, and he takes his mouth off Billy and moves up his body. Billy looks at him with wide, lust-full eyes, and Homelander tugs at Billy's cock, hard, and Billy gasps, grabs Homelander's shoulders and buckles into him as he come, coating Homelander's hand with his come.

Billy pants into Homelander's shoulder, and Homelander moves Billy so he's sitting on Homelander's lap, his legs resting on Homelander's thigh, head on his shoulder. Homelander buries his face into Billy's hair, smelling the orgasm, the alcohol and the sweat. He sneaks his hand around Billy's waist and pulls him closer into his chest.

He wants to fuck Billy again. And again.

Billy's heartrate returns to normal impressively fast, and Homelander is about to suggest they go again when Billy tuns to glare at him, and then hits him hard on the back of the head. Homelander raises an eyebrow as Billy sucks in a pained breathe and rubs his hand, shuffling slightly off his lap, "You didn’t put it on."

"You didn't stop me," Homelander points out, and grabs Billy's ass, kneading it as he pulls Billy back into his lap.

"No, I didn't, did I?" Billy snorts. "Can you get sick, mate?"

Homelander shakes his head. Of course he fucking can't.

"You're not going to get anything from me, buddy, you have my word," Homelander promises, and then flips them over, throwing Billy on the bed. Billy laughs and settles up, placing his arms around Homelander's neck. And Homelander leans in close, until their lips are inches away.

"You're rather good at it," Billy whispers into Homelander's lips.

And Homelander doesn’t think before he leans all the way in and kisses Billy deeply. It's not his first time, he's kissed Maeve before, but really only for the cameras. When they're fucking to get energy out, they don't kiss, and Homelander has never felt the need to.

That may have been a miscalculation. Billy's mouth is as warm and inviting as his ass, and his tongue flicks out to meet Homelander's, making Homelander moan out loud as Billy sucks on it. Homelander slumps down on the bed as Billy bends over him. As Billy works over his mouth, Homelander grabs his ass cheeks with both hands and began rubbing them, up and down before slipping his fingers back in. Billy gasps into Homelander's mouth, but doesn’t stop the kissing, the licking into Homelander's mouth. He bites Homelander's lips, hard, and Homelander grins inwardly. Billy's something else.

Eventually Billy pushes away and looks down at Homelander, eyes narrowing, and then he smirks and climbs off Homelander's lap. Homelander frowns, "Where do you think you're going, buddy?"

Billy, walking shamelessly naked towards the bathroom, doesn’t even stop as he says, "The bloody hell you _think_ I'm doing? Need to clean up."

Homelander slumps back on the bed and nods, though Billy can't see his face. He watches Billy walk into the bathroom and looks through the wall with his X-ray vision to see Billy step into the shower. Water tumbles down his body, cleaning him up, and Homelander quietly jerks himself off as he watches his come trickle down Billy's legs to go down the drain.

When Billy comes out, dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist, he leans against the wall and clicks his tongue, "I gotta get to sleep, yeah? Got work to get to tomorrow."

Homelander raises an eyebrow. Billy wants him to leave? He wasn’t nearly close to being done. He opens his mouth to tell Billy that, but the man beats him to the punch.

"This was good, wouldn't mind doin' it again," Billy looks him straight in the eye.

Homelander pushes himself up, and walks over to Billy. He hooks his finger under the towel, and Billy smirks at him.

"Not tonight," Billy says. "Another time, yeah?"

Homelander nods, and moves away, towards his clothes. He's not entirely sure what he's doing, giving up on fucking Billy again tonight.

Billy laughs slightly and places his hand on Homelander's back, running his fingers up and down as Homelander leans down to put his underwear and pants on.

"And don't tell no one about me, yeah?"

"Why would I?" Homelander turns with his shirt in his hand, and nudges Billy's nose with his own. "I'm not going to share you with anyone."

*

Homelander comes back three days later. He dresses in his supersuit this time, and glides through Billy's window, into his bedroom. Billy's in the living room, hunched over his coffee table, papers spread out, talking on the phone. Homelander walks up to the wall, looks through it at Billy's tense body. The night after he left Billy, Homelander had gone out and fucked one of Queen Maeve's makeup artists. She'd cried and screamed and begged, and Homelander had come three times, and it was so, so boring. Boring, boring, boring.

The next night he'd tried to fuck Queen Maeve, caught her when she was on her way back from visiting Elena, have her ride him fast and hard, and he'd come twice, and it was boring. Boring, boring, boring.

He kept on trying throughout the next two days, until he finally laughed, snapped the neck of the man he'd been fucking at the time, and flew to Billy's place.

So, here he is, watching the man from behind the wall. Billy's talking to his partner at the CIA about a case involving a dead hooker (Homelander's not sure, but he thinks she might be one of Black Noir's), running his fingers through his hair. Homelander smiles to himself at the sight of Billy's exposed neck, which still has his bite marks on it. He licks his lips, feeling his dick strain against his pants.

"Yeah, alright then," Billy sighs.

"I'm going to put my girl to bed," His partner, a young-sounding man, says. "You should try to get some sleep."

"Not bloody likely."

"Billy…"

"Night, mate," Billy snaps and turns off the phone. He groans out loud and throws the phone on the coffee table, and it's time for Homelander to move. He slips out of the room, quietly, and moves behind Billy as he leans back over his work.

Homelander bits his lower lip and grabs the back of Billy's neck, pulling him over to him. As Billy's body moves backwards, his arm comes up to punch Homelander square in the jaw.

"Bloody fuckin' hell!" Billy yells as Homelander ducks backwards. He jumps up and tries to punch Homelander again, but Homelander grabs both of his wrists and forces them to the sides. Billy's furious expression turns confused.

"Homelander?"

"The one and only," Homelander drawls, slipping into the sofa and pulling Billy onto his lap. Billy glares at him and stands up, wrenching his hands from Homelander's clutch.

"Bloody hell you doing here?" Billy asks, eyes narrowed.

Homelander smirks, and grabs Billy's pants to draw him closer, slipping his fingers in. Billy's breath hitches and he raises an eyebrow. Homelander whispers into Billy's ear, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Quite," Billy snorts. "Knock next time, you cunt."

"Of course," Homelander says with an exaggerated frown and grasps Billy's flaccid dick, rubbing the head with his fingers. "If you want all your neighbors to know you're Homelander's new fuckbuddy. I'm sure the media would eat," He squeezes Billy's dick hard, "That up."

"That what I am?" Billy raised an eyebrow and then snorts, allowing Homelander to pull him onto his lap. "Yeah, all right."

*

Billy likes having a partner he doesn’t have to be careful with, someone he can unleash on without worrying he'd get hurt. It wasn't like Billy enjoyed causing pain, or harbored any kind of deep anger. He just…likes violence. There's something deep inside him that really, really enjoys violence. He holds on to Homelander hard enough that if he was anyone else he'd sport bruises for weeks. He bites into Homelander and scratches his back and when he's riding Homelander he grasps his air and pull hard enough to tear, using it as an anchor. The hair grows back quickly, and by the time Billy bites down on his chest to muffle his orgasm, the bed is covered in it.

He's also an incredibly bossy bottom. But that's to be expected. He's a bossy everything. Homelander leans that quickly. He sometimes sits on the roof a few houses away from the CIA's headquarters and spies on Billy's work. Billy's always the one to make all the decisions, he's the one that takes charge during interrogations. He's frightening, he hurts his prisoners, but never in a way that will leave marks. Homelander loves watching it. There's something insanely arousing in the sight of Billy taking control, Billy terrifying other people.

Homelander follows Billy on those times when he goes out to have drinks with his friends. They laugh and talk about their jobs and the families his friends are starting to grow. Homelander watches Billy's friends, making sure they don't get anywhere near him. Once in a while one of them slaps Billy's back, and Homelander's teeth clench, but they don't go any farther than that.

He spends most of his free time watching Billy. It calms him down, to be able to hear Billy's heartbeat and voice. If he's away from those things for more then a few days at a time he feels panic and fury grow in him, and he gets more violent, crushing people's skulls randomly and killing the people he's fucking, sometimes during the fucking itself. His cock snaps so powerfully into their bodies he tears them wide open and they bleed to death around him while he comes into their broken bodies. It's never as satisfying, though, as when he comes inside of Billy's body. Billy's body that now belongs to Homelander.

They meet usually once or twice a week. Homelander would like to come more, but can't without making it clear to Billy how close an eye he's keeping on him. He doesn’t want Billy to know how much time Homelander spends thinking about Billy. No need to inflate his ego.

Not that Billy seems to realize how lucky he is to have Homelander's attention. He's cynical and sarcastic about Superheroes, turning the TV off when commercials for their newest movies come on and ignores Homelander when he tries to tell him about his heroics. It should make Homelander furious.

It just makes him want to fuck Billy harder, faster, get his admiration that way. Billy appreciates good sex, and Homelander can give him that, so Billy appreciates Homelander.

They don't talk much, at least not in the beginning. Billy tells Homelander what he wants him to do, and Homelander whispers into his ear, asking him if it feels good, reminding him that no one else can make him feel quite so good, that his ass belongs to Homelander. Billy always seems to be only half listening when Homelander does that, panting and lost in his own pleasure. And when it's over, Billy's heartrate returns to normal at an annoyingly fast rate and he collapses down on the bed next to Homelander, and laughs.

The first time they really talk is around two weeks after they start their…arraignment. They're lying on the bed, Homelander's looking through the ceiling two stories up to see a couple doing just what he and Billy had been busy doing a few minutes earlier. The woman's riding the man, gasping and groaning, and Homelander wants Billy to do that next. He turns to look at Billy, but before he can, Billy's phone rings and the man rolls his eyes, mumbling and grabbing his phone.

"Yeah?" Billy growls, and Homelander doesn’t like having his attention on anyone else, so he places his hand on Billy's thigh, gaining a murderous look in return.

"Hi, Billy, it's not Cameron," His partner's voice says, sounding exhausted. "The DNA doesn’t fit."

"Bullocks," Billy groans, rubbing his eyes, and then shoves Homelander's hand away. Homelander smirks and puts his hand right back. "Well then, give us an idea-"

"We should look at her son's school. Look at the teachers."

"Yeah, all right," Billy clicks his tongue. "Start with the lad's homeroom teacher-fuck!"

Billy yelps, looking down at his dick, which is now held in a vice grip by Homelander. The look he throws Homelander is pure venom, and boy does it go straight to Homelander's own dick.

"Billy? You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Billy growls, sounding incredibly composed. "Stubbed me toe is all."

The partner snorts, "Well, I think-"

"Give us a call in the morning, yeah? I got…some things I need to do."

He throws the phone on the ground and raises his hand to punch Homelander. Homelander grabs the hand inches from his face, and Billy winces from the pain. He topples Billy over, so he's laying on top of him, still holding on to his hand, and leans down to kiss him.

At the last second, Billy places his free palm on Homelander's mouth to block him.

"That was work," He says dryly. Homelander gently moves the hand away.

"I know, I could hear," Homelander taps on Billy's ear. 

"Don't."

"Don’t hear?" Homelander smirks.

"Don’t bloody eavesdrop on me phone calls," Billy sneers.

Homelander leans over, and this time Billy lets him kiss him gently, "Fine."

"Really?" Billy tilts his head.

"What, you don't trust me? Come on, I'm-"

"Don't fuckin' say it," Billy growls.

"Though, you know, since I did listen," Homelander hums, "I could give you a hand."

"That so?" Billy smirks.

"That wasn't exactly what I meant, pal, though we could do that later. I meant, I could help you with your case!" Homelander grins widely. It could be good for publicity, and he wants to be near Billy when he works, so he can make sure Billy never, ever forgets about him, not for one moment.

Billy freezes, "No."

That was not at all the reaction Homelander had expected. He frowns and pulls away from Billy, hovering over him. He glares down at the man, feeling the smile slip off his face, and his eyes glow red for a moment. Billy just stares at him, no fear, just anger. Homelander can smell the anger on his skin.

"I'm the fucking Homelander, I can solve a fucking-"

"You can, but we you ain't gonna," Billy replies. "It's none of your concern. It's me case. Not the Supes."

"What, you think I'm going to take all the credit?" Homelander smirks. "Don't worry, I mean, you're-"

"The real hero, yeah, yeah," Billy rolls his eyes. "Listen, what I do, it requires a certain level of…. subtly, you understand? And that's…not something you're very good at."

Homelander feels fury rise in him, pounding against his ears. But underneath him Billy wiggles and kisses him roughly, and it's like the anger is sucked out of him through Billy's mouth. He groans and kisses Billy back, and when they break apart, Billy looks up at him with a smirk.

"But I suppose I should thank you for the thought," Billy moves down Homelander's body. "Don't move, yeah?"

For once, Homelander allows himself to be ordered around.


	2. 2008: Part 2

After he's come once into Billy's mouth and again into Billy's ass, and after he's made Billy come once just by fingering him, when Billy's tumbled into sleep and Homelander sits on the bed next to him, running his fingers through his's hair, he thinks again about Billy's refusal to accept help. He pulls Billy's head gently into his lap, which makes him mumble and move in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake up. Homelander leans over and kisses Billy's forehead, pushing his hair back.

Why doesn’t Billy want Homelander's help? Is there something going on in his job that he doesn’t want Homelander to know? Homelander breathes in deeply on his hair. Homelander hasn't noticed anything odd in the way Billy behaves when he's not around, but he can't keep an eye on him all day long, he's got things to do. Billy could be fucking his partner when Homelander isn't looking.

Homelander quickly moves his hand away from Billy's hair as it clenches into a fist so he doesn’t end up accidently crushing the man's skull. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself into calm, and then returns his hand to run his fingers through Billy's hair, making him sighs in his sleep and snuggle into Homelander's lap.

Billy's partner and him spend a lot of time together, Homelander muses. He calls Billy often in the middle of the night. And yes, it's always about work, but Homelander's sure the fucker wants to screw his Billy. Who wouldn't want that? Billy is one of a kind.

And he's not available. Homelander doesn’t share. Just because he fucks other people doesn’t mean Billy can as well, and it definitely, _definitely_ doesn’t mean that someone else can fuck Billy.

He's going to have to keep a closer eye on him from now on. Homelander smiles, and settles down comfortably on the bed, pulling Billy into his chest, and goes back to watching him as he sleeps in his arms.

*

The first thing he does the next morning is order a few spy cameras, which he gets set up for a phone he keeps on him at all times. He immediately gets asked by Vought employs what he needs the cameras for, but he ignores their questions, and none of the mudpeople have the guts to ask him again. Billy would have.

That afternoon, when Billy is at work, he places the cameras in the apartment, one in the bedroom, one in the living room and one in the bathroom. He spends a few hours looking at his phone, but there's no one there, Billy's at work. He should put cameras in Billy's office as well, but that would require going into the CIA building, and he doubts the black-haired man will look favorably on that.

He keeps it up for the next few weeks, spending more and more time both watching the cameras and spying on Billy the way he had before. He doesn't see anything worrying, but he finds he gets more and more furious every time he spies Billy's partner in his apartment, and more then once he flies over there as soon as he sees the man arrive there, to make sure he's close enough to intervene if the man tries anything. After Billy's partner leaves, and Billy falls asleep, Homelander slips into his bed and pulls him into his chest. Billy always wakes up, but he doesn’t attack Homelander anyone, he's used to his presence, and just mumbles, half asleep, and curls deep into Homelander's chest, falling back asleep. Homelander lays there for hours, watching Billy as he dreams.

And the sex…the sex is the best Homelander's ever had. He comes harder and faster then he's ever had, and he learns the interesting fact that coming isn't the only enjoyable thing you can get from investigating another person's body. He learns that making Billy come is also enjoyable, that marking his Billy up so that if anyone got close enough to see his bare chest and ass and legs, they'd be able to tell that they can't have him, that he already belongs to someone else. He learns that he loves to kiss him, to lay on the sofa for hours with Billy's tongue in his mouth.

As time goes by, Homelander starts staying longer and longer after they're done fucking. He showers with Billy, kissing him under the stream of water, licking his body all over. And then Billy bends down and blows him with the water pounding down on them. Sometimes they eat together, sitting on the couch in the living room because the kitchen table is almost always covered in Billy's work, and besides, the living room is where the television is, and he likes watching while he eats. Homelander likes it as well, because when he's focused on the television, Billy absentmindly leans against Homelander, and Homelander can bury his face into his hair and feel more secure and grounded then he can ever remember.

They start playing poker, as well. Billy enjoys the game (he enjoys deception, and the act of lying), and Homelander provides a challenge the overly intelligent man can't get from his friends and coworkers. At the beginning, when they just start to play, Homelander cheats. It's automatic. He has an advantage, why not use it? Billy of course can always tell, and doesn't even look disappointed when Homelander wins. Just bored. Like he'd expected more out of Homelander. So, a few days later, Homelander tries to play the game without cheating once. He loses, and he hates it, but Billy's animated and excited, and blows Homelander right there and then on the sofa. So the next time they play, Homelander plays fair and square and by the book again. This time he wins, and Billy's impressed raised eyebrow is enough to make it worthwhile.

He can never, no matter what he does, get Billy impressed with him by using his powers. No matter how strong he is, no matter how fast, no matter how many times he comes and can still get hard. Billy just snorts and says something like, "Well, that ain't cause of your hard work, innit? God given powers."

But when Homelander beats him at poker, when he fingers him expertly, when he shows off his worldly knowledge when they're watching the news, that's when he finally gets it, the raised eyebrow and smirk, and the fucking magnificent sex that comes with it. It makes him feel like he's never felt before, like the world is warmer when Billy is around, calmer when Billy is impressed. Everything else is a raging storm, Billy is an unaffected island in the middle. Homelander never wants to hurt him anymore, just keep him close.

By the time the two-month anniversary of their first meeting hits, Homelander can't remember what his life was like without Billy, and doesn’t want to imagine what a life without him no would be like.

And then, one night, he makes the mistake of falling asleep in Billy's bed.

He dreams of the blue room, that he's sitting there, a little boy again, and he can see Vogelbaum through the window. He's scared, and cold, and he wants Vogelbaum to come in, to hold him, but he won't. He never does.

"Homelander."

Homelander's eyes fly open and he blinks. Billy is seated on his chest, eyes narrowed, hands on his chest. Homelander looks to the side and finds his hands fisted into the sheets, and he's torn a hole in mattress, making feathers fly in the air. One of them land on Billy's shoulder, and Homelander slowly uncurls his fists and brushes the feather away. He's already grinning, mind blanking out his dream, but Billy keeps looking at him with that concerned expression, and Homelander feels the smile slip off.

"What happened?" Billy asks softly, running his fingers over Homelander's exposed chest. "Bad dream?"

"There. Smart guy, have it all figured out," Homelander taps Billy's forehead.

Billy smirks and lays down on Homelander's chest, gently caressing his shoulder blade with his fingers, "What about?"

Homelander swallows, and wraps an arm around Billy, to hold him close.

"My…my childhood," For a moment he almost tells Billy everything, about how it's all a fucking lie, how he was actually raised like a fucking lab rat and the man who raised him, the closest thing he has to a parent, hasn't come to see him once since he handed him over to Vought. He wants to tell Billy how much it hurts, and how he doesn’t understand why he's supposed to care about these mudpeople, since he knows, because that's what he was taught, how beneath him they all are. But all he ends up saying is, "It wasn't as perfect as Vought makes it out to be."

Billy snorts, "No one's was."

"Yeah, but, I'm supposed to be," Homelander mumbles. "Perfect. I'm the Homelander-"

"You ain't perfect," Billy yawns. "If you were, we wouldn't be fuckin', would we? Perfect is so bloody boring."

"How am I not perfect?"

"You're a sore loser, you have an ego the size of-"

"Ok, I get it," Homelander places a hand over Billy's mouth to shut him up. He's barely even angry, though. And Billy just smirks and his tongue darts out to lick the hand teasingly, which makes him not angry at all.

Homelander releases Billy's mouth and the man places his chin on Homelander's chest, looking at him. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Homelander comes to a decision.

"John," He says, and Billy blinks.

"What?"

"John, that's my name," Only Vogelbaum has ever really used that name for him. But it's still his, the name he was raised with. Not the name the marketing people came up for him, but the name the man who raised him came up for him. John is a precious secret he doesn’t let people know. The only people who know are the people at Vought who are aware of where he really comes from. And now Billy. "The name my father gave me."

Billy blinks up at him for a moment, and then smiles. His smile is sweet and open and Homelander almost has to look away, it's so strong. Billy leans over and cups Homelander's cheek with his hand, running his thumb across Homelander's upper lip, and then kisses him, gently, tenderly, as if Homelander is something fragile and precious, and Homelander, who's never been treated like that, feels like he might cry.

"John," His name on Billy's tongue sends a shiver down Homelander's spine. "Yeah, all right."

Not much changes after that conversation. At least, nothing outward. Homelander still comes over around three times a week (always Saturday night, that one he never misses, because all other nights Billy could be out with friends, but on Saturdays said friends are with their families, and Billy stays in), they still play poker and watch the news. They start playing chess, as well. Homelander wins most if not all of those games. Chess was one of Vogelbaum's favourite activities to do with him. Winning is good, because Billy's got something of a kink for intelligence and competence, and when Homelander can display such traits he wins himself blow jobs. And they still talk afterwards, about their days. Billy is a good story teller, and Homelander listens rapidly, despite the fact that he knows most of those things. There's a good chance he was listening in on their happenings.

But something does change, something fundamental deep down. Somewhere, along the way, Homelander has started caring about Billy's happiness. He started enjoying it when Billy laughs, when he's smiling sleepily right before he falls asleep. He enjoys it even when he knows that Billy- too tired or too worried- won't sleep with him at that moment. He tries to get Billy to smile just for the pleasure of seeing it on his face.

And something's changed for Billy, as well. Homelander can tell. He holds on to him more, the times when Billy doesn’t want violence sex, he's gentle and tender, moving slowly and purposely. Homelander hears him talking to an old friend of his from London and telling him that he's starting seeing someone. He says he thinks it's serious.

Billy doesn't use Homelander's other name often. He keeps it for special occasions. When he wants something really bad and needs to convince Homelander, when he's in the middle of a particularly good orgasm. Every time he does, Homelander wants to cry. He doesn’t even know why.

*

Homelander's blind spot in Billy's office is starting to get on his nerves. Whenever he's unable to spy on Billy in person at work, because his own job requires his attention, Homelander grows itchy and uncomfortable. He hates not being able to tell what's happening with Billy, especially considering how dangerous Billy's job can get. What if Billy's attacked during the day and Homelander doesn’t know? What if Billy gets hurt? What if Billy dies?

He can't risk that.

Homelander considers staging a visit to the CIA building to plant some cameras, but that will be far too complicated and besides, Billy's not going to get hurt while he's in the office. It's when he's out there in the world that he's in danger and needs to be kept an eye on. Like on those occasions when he leaves the country. He's spent a few weeks in Guantanamo once. That was fucking awful, Homelander had killed five people in the first week of Billy's absence while he tried to satisfy his frustrated sexual needs.

The worst part was that he knew exactly where Billy was, but couldn't actually go to him, because Billy didn't know that Homelander knew where he was. It would have made things so, so much easier if he had cameras on Billy at that time. Then at least he would have some masturbating material. Something better than just going to Billy's empty apartment and jacking off into his cold sheets.

He needs cameras on Billy's person. 

With that decided, Homelander gets to work. He orders a Vought employ to make him a tiny, undetectable camera (he kills the employer after he gest the camera, making it look like a suicide. You can never be too careful) and imbeds it in a simple silver necklace that Billy might actually wear.

He gives Billy the necklace in a black box after he made him orgasm from fingering. Billy's lying on his back, panting softly, and his eyebrow goes all the way up to his hair line when Homelander places the box on the bed next to him.

"What's that?" Billy reaches out for the box. "If it's a dildo, consider me bloody interested."

"Ah, no, but I could absolutely get you one if you want," They haven't really used sex toys until now, but Homelander is very far from being against the idea.

Billy snorts, which can either mean yes or mean no. It's sometimes hard to tell with him. He opens the box and takes out the silver necklace.

Homelander watches Billy look the piece of jewelry over, a bit nervous that Billy won't want to wear it. He'd have to find another way to get a camera on him if that becomes the case. Maybe he can drug him and put one on his body, somehow?

But Billy grins and puts the necklace on. It suits him, and Homelander licks his lips. To him, it's like a collar on an animal- it's a sign of ownership. _Fuck._

"Thanks," Billy says, and moves up to capture Homelander's lips in a sweet kiss. "Next gift: dildo. Yeah?"

From that day, Homelander has full for access to Billy's every movement whenever he wants it. It's fucking incredible, especially when he catches Billy masturbating in front of a mirror, and can see by the movement of his lips that he's groaning out Homelander's name as he pleasures himself.

*

Things go so well for a while, and Homelander forgets the fundamental fact about mudpeople. That they can't be trusted, they're tiny little brains can't be relied on. And he lets himself slip.

On the day of the Believe Expo (it was started a year earlier, and Homelander had really hoped it wouldn’t become an annual thing), Homelander is busy for hours with baptizing mudpeople and giving speeches with Lamplighter, and he goes six hours straight without checking up on Billy. When night falls, and he's finally free to go, he quickly washes his hands (he can't stand the smell of the water on his hands, it still strings of the sweat of the mudpeople he dunked into it) and then takes out his phone.

And what he sees makes him freeze.

Billy's partner is sitting in the living room, next to Billy, and Billy is _hugging_ him while he cries. Homelander feels his jaw clench. He doesn’t understand what Billy is thinking, touching another man. And why is his partner crying? It must be some trick, to get Billy's sympathies. Billy, for all his cynicism, still has a slightly naïve side to him. He never seems to realize when people want him.

Homelander has to protect him. Keep all those leeches away from him.

"Homelander," One of Vought's press people come up to him, holding a clipboard. "We have a group that came from a school in Kansas-"

"Later," Homelander just manages to plaster on a smile. "I need to go take care of something. I'll go to Kansas tomorrow to meet them."

"But-"

"I _said_," Homelander growls. "Later."

The man swallows, and nods, "Right, yeah. Of course, my bad."

"Good," Homelander smiles again, and then he's off.

He settles on the roof a few buildings away from Billy, and watches. Billy is still hugging the man, rubbing his back gently as he cries, and Homelander, who's placed his hands on the stone wall, is not surprised to find pieces of broken stone in his hand.

"I'm so sorry," Billy sighs. "Bloody hell, what a fuckin' dog's dinner…"

"I didn't think it would happen to us-" The man laughs bitterly. "But I suppose no one does, do they."

"No, don't suppose they do."

"Well, um, I really appreciate this," Billy's partner waves his hand in the air. "The shoulder to cry on."

"Course, what are mates for?"

The man stands up, and Billy follows him. They go over to the door and exchange another hug. Homelander sees that Billy's eyes are shiny with unshed tears and wonders what the fuck this fucker has told his Billy. God, that guy is good.

"I'll give you a bell, see how…well, how things are," Billy clears his throat as the two break apart. "If you need anything-"

"All I need it to know that you've got things under control in the office, and you always have things under control, so…"

Billy laughs as he opens the door, but he doesn't sound amused. When the door closes behind his partner, he breathes out, rubs his face and staggers back to the sofa and falls on it, facing the open door to his bedroom. He's looking at the door. Homelander's seen him in that position before, when he came by. It means that Billy's waiting for him to show up.

For once, Homelander can't give Billy what he wants. He has more important things to do, to keep Billy safe from people who'd want to steal him away.

*

He corners Billy's partner a few streets away from Billy's apartment. It's a small and dark alley, and the stores on either side of it are dark and empty. There will be no one to see.

The man is looking down at his feet as he walks, expression pained and cheeks wet with tears. He doesn't see Homelander, as he stands with his hands on his hips, until he's a few steps away. And then he looks up, eyes widening, and jumps backwards.

"H-Homelander!"

"Ah, you know who I am," Homelander grins.

"What? Of- of course I know who you are," The man wipes the tears off his face. "What-what are you doin-"

"See, I also know who you are," Homelander informs him, walking back and forth, waving his finger. "You're Billy Butcher's partner."

"You know Billy?" He frowns.

"Oh, yeah, I know Billy," Homelander smirks. "I fuck Billy."

The man's eyes widen even more.

"What?"

"What, you didn't know Billy likes it up the ass?" Homelander clicks his tongue. "Because he really,_ really_ does."

"I-I know Billy's bi," He mumbles. "But he never told me he was dating a Supe-"

"I'm sure he didn't," Homelander interrupts, voice growing cold. "Or you wouldn't be so stupid as to try and fuck him."

By now the man's eyes are so wide it looks incredibly stupid, and he shakes his head, "What? What are you talking about? I don’t want- I'm married. To a_ woman_-"

"Don't lie to me," Homelander takes a step forward, eyes going red. "Don't you fucking lie to me."

"I'm not lying," The man's heartrate is elevated, and he takes a step backwards, hands held up. "I'm not, Billy's just a friend."

"I saw you tonight," Homelander sneers. "I saw you crying on his shoulder-"

"He was just comforting me!"

"Don't you _fucking interrupt me_," Homelander roars, then grabs the man's throat, pulling him close. "Billy is mine, do you understand? He belongs to me and no one else can touch him, no other man can ever place his dick inside of my Billy. Do you understand?"

Choking, Billy's partner nods, and Homelander releases him before he gets any bruises.

"Good," Homelander nods happily. "Then you understand why I have to kill you now?"

"What?" The man wheezes. "No, no, no, you don't. I won't touch Billy, I swear, never, I won't even shake his hand-"

"Sorry, pal, but I... just don't believe you," Homelander shrugs. "Billy's far too tempting. And you work too closely with him. It's not a chance I can take."

"You're insane," Billy's partner says in the tone of a man figuring something shocking out. "You're fucking insane."

"I'm not insane," Homelander scoffs at the ridiculous suggestion, and then picks up a piece of rusty metal from the ground. "I'm just in love."

And then he bashes the man's brains in.

*

Billy doesn't come back to his apartment for three days. He spends the whole time investigating the death of his partner, which is a suspected robbery gone bad, due to the missing wallet on the agent. The murder weapon is missing for the first thirty hours, until a beat cop finds it in the sewers. The prints on it lead the CIA to a bi-polar homeless man whose ToxScreen shows he was both drunk and high on cocaine on the night of the murder. Homelander thinks injecting the man he forced to clutch the weapon with cocaine was a nice touch.

Billy doesn’t sleep for sixty-five hours, until his boss finally orders him back home. He fights her for a bit, but eventually gives her the finger and slumps all the way to the cab that takes him home. Homelander doesn’t blame him for caring. He hadn't known that the man wanted him, he just thought the man was his friend. Why wouldn't he mourn his friend?

Homelander, who's been watching the whole thing unfold, waits for a few hours after Billy gets home, to let him get some sleep in, and then sweeps into his room and sits on the bed, gathering Billy into his arms.

He keeps on sleeping in Homelander's hold for another six hours, before he stirs and opens his eyes. Homelander shifts Billy a bit so his head is leaning on his-Homelander's- chest, and waits while Billy rubs his eyes and sits up.

"Hey," Homelander runs a hand through Billy's black hair.

"Did you hear?" Billy asks, voice raw from sleep. "My partner's been shanked."

"I heard," Homelander sighs. "I'm sorry."

"By an old geezer too pissed to remember what he did," Billy buries his face back into Homelander's chest.

"That doesn’t seem fair," Homelander nods, kissing Billy gently. Billy shakes his head and hugs Homelander's neck.

"He was here, that night," Billy mumbles, and Homelander has to stop himself from stiffening. "His daughter- a sweet little lass- he and his bird just heard from her docs. She got cancer."

Huh. So that was why he was there. Internally, Homelander shrugs.

"And his bird's getting another basin of gravy."

"Huh?"

"Baby."

Homelander rolls his eyes. He loves Billy's accent, but sometimes it's incredibly difficult to understand him.

"Oh. God, that's awful," Homelander runs his fingers down Billy's spine. "Maybe I can give his widow something? You know, showcase them on the news? Pregnant widow with a sick child…the media will eat that up. We can get her quite a bit of money that way."

Billy snorts, sounding like he's about to cry, "I bloody doubt Lana will be interested, but thank you."

"All right," Homelander isn't interested in helping…Lana and her kids. But Billy's holding on tighter to him, so the suggestion had been a good idea. "It was just an idea."

Billy hums, eyes starting to close again, "Sorry, tired."

Homelander lays down, so Billy can be horizontal, and entwines their fingers together, "Go to sleep, Billy. It's all right, it's over, you found the man who killed your partner, you did what you could for him and his family."

"You stay," Billy mumbles, sounding half asleep, and tightens his hold on Homelander's fingers, pulling their entwined hands to rest in between their chests.

"I'll stay," Homelander promises. "I'm not going anywhere."

*

They let Billy work on his own for around a month and a half, but eventually his boss calls him to her office and lets him know that he'll be getting a new partner. Homelander, who's been watching through the camera in Billy's necklace, is rather amused at the string of profanities that issue from Billy's mouth.

"I don't need no bloody new partner," Billy yells, stomping back and forth. Homelander can't see his face, but by the expression on his boss's he gets the impression that Billy is looking very, very pissed. "I work bloody fine on my own."

Homelander has to agree. And he likes Billy working on his own. The last partner was far too close to Billy, he prefers it if no one takes that place.

"That doesn’t matter, no one works solo, you need a partner," His boss is undeterred. "Come on, let's go meet him."

The new partner turns out to be a fifty-something year old with a large belly. Billy and him don't get along, and Billy spends hours venting to Homelander about how useless the man is. He doesn’t go out with this partner after work, like he did with the first one. Which means more time spend at home with Homelander.

Homelander couldn't have wished for a better outcome.


	3. 2008: Part 3

When they reach the half-year mark of their relationship, Billy tells Homelander to come over earlier that night, that he'll make a special dinner. Also, he's informed (as if Homelander doesn’t know this, just because he's never been in a real relationship doesn't mean he doesn’t understand the mechanics of one), that it's traditional to exchange gifts on such occasions. Which is a bit of a problem, since Homelander has no fucking idea what to give him. Or, well, he does have lots of ideas, but they're all things he knows Billy will never accept. Like a new, larger apartment, or a better car.

He spends the week before the anniversary agonizing over that _fucking gift_, and in the end buys Billy a few expensive suits. He doesn't think Billy will like it, but really, he doesn’t know what else to get.

A few hours before the time he's supposed to be at Billy's apartment, Homelander is standing around the burnt wreckage of a dog shelter that a couple of teens had tried to hold up for money. The fucking idiots thought that people would actually give them money for ugly little dogs. Homelander had lasered the fuck out of all three of the boys, and all the dogs.

Well, most of the dogs, as it turns out. Homelander is standing with his hands on his waist, sighing to the press and telling them how sad he is the boys burnt down the shelter, and how they got stuck inside, and how he got there a few moments too late, when he hears a small whimpering sound and realizes one of the dogs survived. Which would look incredibly good on the cameras.

"Wait a moment," Homelander's eyes widen and he looks around. "I hear something."

The press look around, and Homelander rushes over to one of the burnt tables. He throws it to the side, exposing a little puppy. It's a Pitbull, huddled into himself and looking up at Homelander with wide, scared eyes. Homelander grins inwardly. Sometimes the solution just falls into your hands.

"Oh, it's ok, don't worry," Homelander coos, and as the cameras go off behind him he gently picks the puppy up and holds him to his chest. He turns back to the cameras and smiles sadly, eyes watering slightly. "Well, we have one survivor."

"What are you going to do with him, Homelander?" One reporter asks.

"Find him a good home, of course," Homelander grins.

*

He shoves the dog into a surprised Billy's hands and flops down on the bed. Billy blinks at him for a moment and then looks down at the dog before a huge smile breaks into his face.

"You gonna find this mutt a good home?"

"Oh, you saw that?"

"Happened to have the telly on, yeah," Billy nods, and scratches the puppy's head. The tiny creature lets out a huffed breath and licks Billy's fingers.

Homelander wraps his arms around Billy's waist and whispers in his ears, "Do you like him?"

"Course," Billy grins again. "Gotta watch over my fellow Brits, no?"

"Huh?"

"This here is an English Bulldog, mate," Billy explains, and Homelander frowns.

"Not a Pitbull?"

"Not a Pitbull," Billy confirms, and raises the dog up in the air, squinting. "Gotta find him a name, yeah?"

"You can call him…"

"Terror."

Homelander rolls his eyes and kisses Billy's neck, "Why so dramatic."

"Tosser looks like a Terror," Billy shrugs, as if that's all there is too it. And then he places the dog down on the floor. "Will deal with him later. Right now…"

He detaches himself from Homelander and brings out a black bag from under the bed. Homelander frowns at it.

"What's that?"

"Your gift, mate," Billy replies and throws Homelander the bag. He opens it, and it's full of sex toys.

He makes Billy come five times. By the time the last orgasm hits, there's practically no liquids to come out anymore. When the fifth one subsides, Billy, breathing in and out heavily, grabs Homelander and shoves him down for a sloppy kiss.

"Happy half-bloody-anniversary, John."

Homelander doesn’t say anything, just kisses him back.

He stays for the night, sleeping with Billy curled on his chest and Terror at their feet, and wakes up the next morning when there's a buzzing on Billy's front door. Homelander frowns and looks to see who it is. It's a beautiful brown-haired woman, who's holding a plate of cookies and wearing a nervous expression. Homelander narrows his eyes. Who the fuck is she and what the fuck does she want with Billy?

On his chest, Billy mumbles in his sleep, and Homelander holds his breath, hoping he won't wake up. But he does, blinking and rubbing his eyes, and looks up at Homelander, "You hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything," Homelander lies, hoping the woman will move on if Billy doesn’t answer. But the woman takes a deep breath and buzzes again, and this time Billy jumps up.

"Someone at the door," He mumbles, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and looking around wildly for a shirt. "Bloody hell-"

"It's just a woman," Homelander says, catching Billy's wrist. That woman is beautiful, and she has an earnest, pathetic look to her that makes Homelander think she's also one of those overly kind mudpeople he hates so much. He doesn't want her anywhere near his Billy. "Stay."

"That would be bloody rude, wouldn't it?" Billy tries to leave, and Homelander tightens his hold on Billy's wrist. Billy hisses and glares at Homelander. "Let go, Homelander."

"Don’t go," Homelander repeats. He's confident enough in Billy's platonic relationships with his friends to allow him to spend time with, but he doesn’t know this woman, what she wants, what she's looking for. It's not as bad as having a man around him, that he really can't stand but this isn't to be tolerated either. Especially not when Homelander is right there and can stop it without making Billy aware of how closely he's being watched. "I'll go."

"You ain't going nowhere," Billy tries to pull his hand away. "Let go-"

"Why do you want to see her?" Homelander stands up, and grabs Billy's second wrist, forcing him closer to him. Billy grits his teeth and tries to kick Homelander. He hits him right in the chest, and Homelander can feel the pain radiating through Billy's bones.

"I don't owe you no explanation, mate," Billy stumbles, and Homelander can see pain in his eyes. He feels a pang of guilt for causing that, but quickly shoves it down. It isn't his fault that Billy was being fucking ridiculous. If Billy's going to behave this way, it's on him if he gets hurt. "Let _go_."

Homelander hears a sigh and turns to see the woman shrug to herself and move on. She walks over to the apartment next door to Billy's, and knocks. He finds himself relax when he realizes that she hadn't come for Billy, specifically. But he doesn’t let go of Billy until the woman walks into the neighbor's apartment.

Homelander turns back to Billy, and lets go of his wrists. Billy stumbles backwards, losing his balance and falling down on the ground. Homelander rushes over to him, but Billy raises his hand to stop him.

"Stay back, cunt," Billy hisses and rubs his wrist as Terror rushes over to him and licks his toes. Homelander sees his fingerprints itched into Billy's skin, and it makes arousal churn in his gut. But then he sees Billy wince from the pain, and the arousal pours out of him like water from a broken vase.

"I'm sorry," Homelander whispers, and falls down on to the floor, crawling towards Billy. Billy glares, but stays in place. Incredibly, there's still no fear in his eyes. But the anger is palpable, righteous fury hitting Homelander straight on. "Billy-"

"Don't _ever _do that again," Billy growls. "I ain't your property, clear?"

"Clear," Homelander says immediately. He doesn't mind lying, never has. His whole life is a lie.

"Right," Billy nods and stands up. "Stay away for a week or two, yeah? Not sure I want your cock in me for some time."

*

He does stay away, for three days. At least, he doesn’t let Billy see him, even if he keeps just as close as normal. Instead of sleeping in the bed with Billy, he sits down on the chair next to it and watches Billy sleep, and he watches the cameras even more than before. Sits for hours in his room in Vought's tower, looking down at his phone.

That's how he sees it. On the third day of his exile from Billy, Homelander is sitting on top of the Statue of Liberty, eyes moving back and forth between Billy's cameras to the streets bellow he's supposed to be patrolling. Vought told him they suspect a bank heist could occur a few streets away, which he should be stopping, obviously. He's always meant to save the mudpeople. When he hears the bank heist start, Homelander looks up, but before he can move, something catches his eye in the tablet. Billy, who's been sitting on his table working, has stood up and walked over to the door.

"Fuck," Homelander growls as the door opens and that fucking bitch walks in. She's holding a pie this time, and Billy smiles as he takes it from her. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He hears guns start going off, the screaming of the people in the bank as they're slaughtered while he flies away.

He hovers in front of Billy's apartment, watching. Billy is sitting on his couch, and the brown-haired woman is seated next to him. They're not touching, but they're close enough to make Homelander's jaw clench.

"I came by a few days ago," The woman is saying. "Bringing cookies to all the neighbors, but I think you must have still been asleep, or maybe out?"

"Ah, that's what that was," Billy whispers, so low only Homelander can hear. Out loud he says, "Yeah, must have been. I work odd hours, never know when I'll be home."

"Oh, yeah? What do you do?"

"CIA," Billy shuffles his legs up on the sofa. As he moves, Billy's sleeve slips up slightly, exposing his wrists. There's still bruises there, yellow and ugly. "And-"

"God, Billy," The woman gasps, and moves closer, takes ahold of his wrist gently, covering up Homelander's mark. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothin', work," Billy shrugs nonchalantly, and his heart rate is steady. Homelander can feel his teeth grinding into dust as he watches Billy allow the touch and he can't take it anymore, he's going _to kill her_, he's going to smash her brains in and then fuck Billy on the sofa with her brain matter still on his suit, beat him up and break his bones and ugly him up so that no one will ever want to touch him ever again.

He glides through the window, and walks, slowly, to the open door leading to the living room. He's just about to walk out when Billy looks up and sees him.

Billy's eyes widen and he clears his throat, pulling his hand from the woman's grasp. The movement is enough to stop Homelander from charging in and breaking her neck. Especially when Billy smiles at him, looking genuinely pleased to see him, and takes out his phone.

"Shite, Becca, me partner send me a message, need to take this."

"Oh, of course," Becca smiles and nods her head. "Anyway, it was nice to meet you. I think you'll make a fine neighbor, Billy Butcher."

"And you as well, Becca Saunders," They shake hands and Billy walks the woman to the door. When the door closes behind her, Billy leans against it, smirking, and when Homelander comes out of the bedroom and walks towards him, Billy places his head on the door and motions Homelander towards him.

"Billy," Homelander breathes out, placing both of his open palms on either side of Billy's head. It's meant to cage him in, but Billy's far too proud looking to be cowed and caged. He places a hand on Homelander's heart and another around his neck, and pulls him in.

"Didn't I tell you a week?" Billy whispers against Homelander's lips. "Hmm,_ John_?"

"I wanted to see you," Homelander replies. "I couldn't wait."

Billy smirks, and then says, "Yeah? Needed fuckin'? Cause Terror is at doggy-daycare, I can give you that."

He'd gotten _that_. He needed Billy. But he wasn't going to tell Billy that.

"Yeah," He breathes out and goes in, capturing Billy's mouth with his own. The kiss is hard and powerful, Billy opening up and allowing Homelander to map his mouth with his tongue. Billy moans against Homelander, his fingers trialing down to release Homelander's dick from the trap of his pants. Homelander hums in appreciation as Billy squeezes him.

"Bloody fuck," Billy rolls his eyes. "I bloody hate that ball-squisher. How they ain't turning into pancakes, I don't know."

Homelander laughs and goes in for another kiss.

When they break for air (for Billy to breath, that is), Billy grins and hops up, curling his legs around Homelander's waist. Homelander automatically places his hands on Billy's ass, squeezing. He kisses Billy again, sharply, and says, "I don’t want you meeting that woman again."

"Yeah, well," Billy says in between kisses "You can want, that ain't means you'll get it, innit?" Billy breathes out, biting Homelander's lips, "Told you before," Another kiss, "I ain't," Another kiss, "Your property."

"Don't be silly," Homelander starts walking back to the bedroom, carrying Billy. "You're not property. But you _are_ mine."

"That so?" Billy arches his neck, giving Homelander access to his long throat to be kissed and sucked. "You mine as well, Homelander?"

"Of course," Homelander says, puzzled, and drops Billy on the bed. Billy scrambles back and spreads his legs, slumping down. "Of course I'm yours."

He's never been anybody else's.

"Yeah?" Billy raises an eyebrow while Homelander climbs over him. Homelander kisses Billy's forehead as he keeps on talking. "If that's so, how come you're snoggin' the bleeding Queen, night and day, all over the telly?"

It takes a moment for Homelander to realize what Billy's talking about. And when he does, he frowns, "You mean Maeve?"

"No, I mean the Queen of bloody England," Billy growls.

Homelander laughs, it's so ridiculous that Billy would think he'd have any interest in Queen Maeve, that she could compete with Billy. Homelander would have loved for that to happen, it would have made much more sense. Maeve isn't a mudwoman, she's a god like him. But, no, it had to be Billy fucking Butcher.

"Oh, Billy," Homelander clicks his tongue and shook his head pitifully. "It's all for the press."

"That makes it better? It's all fake, then, a deception," Billy hums. "Rather effective, innit?"

Homelander pulls away, "Yes, so?"

"So? So, how am I meant to believe that this here is real," Billy motions back and forth between them. "But that ain't?"

"That's right."

Billy rolls his eyes.

"You don't believe me?" Homelander demands, suddenly furious.

"I don’t think you love her," Billy says. "I just don't believe you don't fuck her."

And, well, Homelander does, as well as other people, but that's not the point. How dare Billy doubt him? How dare he-

"I love you," Homelander whispers down to Billy, kissing his forehead, kissing his cheeks, kissing his jaw. Billy closes his eyes and runs his fingers through Homelander's hair.

"I-yeah," Billy whispers back. "Yeah."

His heartrate is as high as Homelander's ever heard it, and he's grasping onto Homelander as if he's drowning and wants Homelander to save him. Homelander will, of course. Save him and carry him far, far away. Put him in a tower where no one else could reach him, and keep him there forever.

"I love you, and only you, do you understand?" Homelander says, honest down to every syllable.

"I love you," Billy gasps into his ear, and then bites it. Homelander's mind stops working for a second.

"Then don't ever see that woman again," She's far too beautiful for Homelander to feel comfortable with her hanging around his Billy. And too kind. Homelander is not kind, not good like her. She's pure, he's not, he can tell. He doesn’t want someone around who can give Billy something that he can't.

"Don't ever see Maeve again," Billy retorts.

"I work with her," Homelander says, trying to be reasonable. "Our relationship is part of my work, pal."

Billy shrugs, "That's alright then, mate. You keep fuckin' your Queen, and I'll go fuck Becca, yeah?"

With a speed that does not allow Billy the time to react, Homelander grabs his throat and lifts him up into the air by it. Billy gasps, kicking his feet and trying to claw at Homelander's arm.

"You. Don't. Fuck. Her," Homelander hisses, fury rising in so fast and so powerfully he can barely think. "You don't _touch _her, you don't touch _anyone_ but me-"

Billy's turning red, eyes bulging. A small part of Homelander's mind is telling him to stop, to let go, or he's going to kill Billy, squeeze the life out of him like a bug. That part is beaten into silence by the rest.

"Do you understand?" He shakes Billy, and his head is thrown backwards. "_Do you understand_?"

Billy's heart is racing, his breathing is nonexistent, and he's turning slightly blue. His arms fall to his side and his eyes flutter close. His heartbeat starts going down, and Homelander feels something snap in him. He drops Billy, watching him fall back on the bed, and he hovers down, so afraid he can barely move and has to force himself. He places his hands on Billy's chest, and starts pumping.

For a while, the only sounds Homelander can hear are from outside the apartment, and from him, his own panting breath. He wonders what he'll do, if he can't bring Billy's breath back in his body as he gives him mouth to mouth. Probably destroy New York. And London. And every single place Billy's ever been to. He'll scorch the earth, turn it into a funeral pyre of this man.

When he hears a soft little breath, for a moment he thinks he's imagining it, because he wants to hear it so much. But then he hears another one, a bit louder this time. Homelander takes his mouth off Billy's for a moment, and when he feels Billy's breath on his lips, he goes back to work, to bring Billy back from the brink of death.

Billy moans, and Homelander looks down at his throat, seeing deep and dark bruises already forming on Billy's throat. He's nearly crushed his vertebrae, but stopped just in time. Billy will be fine.

He will be fine.

"Billy, Billy," Homelander groans, pulling Billy into his arms and hovering into the air with him. "You're ok, you're fine."

His eyes flutter open, and he looks around wildly for a moment before focusing on Homelander. And there's still no fear in them. But what's there is much, much worse.

Hatred.

"Billy," Homelander swallows, and tries to smile. "I'm sorry, you just got me mad. You shouldn't have said that-"

Billy pulls himself out of Homelander's arms and falls down to the floor. He lands with his feet and palms on the carpet, like a cat, and whisks his head up. He's wheezing, trying to get his breath back, and shaking all over. He shouldn't be trying to get up, he should be on the bed, resting.

"You should get into bed, ok, buddy? You'll be fine, I promise," Homelander leans down and wraps his arm around Billy's waist, to get him into the bed. Billy goes rigid against him for a second, and then starts fighting. He kicks backwards, bites the arm holding him, punches and scratches. And the whole time he's wheezing out, his breath getting less and less steady.

Homelander holds on tighter, and moves them to the bed. He lays down with Billy on his chest, holds him in place with two arms wrapped around him, and kisses the back of his neck while he tries to headbutt him from behind.

"Shh, Billy, shh," Homelander hushes, in much the same voice he uses on people when he's pulling their hearts out. And it's appropriate, because right now it feels like his heart is being ripped out. Why is Billy doing this? Why is he so_ angry_? Didn’t he know that Homelander loved him?

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Billy didn't understand how much Homelander loved him. Because if he did, he wouldn't be busy trying to claw Homelander's arms off him. He'd understand that it was a mistake, that Homelander didn't mean to hurt him.

"I love you, Billy, I love you so much."

Homelander needed to show him.

"Billy," Homelander flipped them over, and slipped his hands from Billy's body. Immediately Billy tried to sit up, but Homelander grabbed his wrists with one hand and pinned them to the bed above Billy's head. Billy glared at him, thrusting his legs up, hitting Homelander with his knees. All it does is make Billy wince in pain. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm going to show you how much I'm sorry."

Billy's eyes widen and he opens his mouth. At first nothing comes out but a croaking sound, but then he rasps out, "No."

"It's ok, I know how to make it good for you," Homelander reminds him. "I'm going to make you come so hard, you'll see."

But Billy shakes his head, and repeats, "No."

Homelander's starting to get angry. Yes, fine, he made a mistake, but Billy was blowing things way, way out of proportion. He rolls his eyes and caresses Billy's cheek with the back of his free hand. Billy pulls as far away from him as he can from his trapped position. He looks up at Homelander, and there's something in his eyes that gives Homelander some hope.

He looks sad.

"Everything is going to be ok," Homelander promises Billy, and kisses him gently. Billy's response is to bite down incredibly hard on his lip. Homelander rolls his eyes and shakes Billy a bit, so he will release his lip. He grins down at Billy and kisses his forehead instead. "No one will ever come between us, no one. And when we're together, everything is fine. I'll take care of you, I'll keep you safe. You'll see."

Billy swallows, and then takes a deep breath. When he talks, his voice is almost back to normal.

"Homelander, get off."

Homelander grins, so pleased to hear Billy back to normal, and kisses him, quick enough that Billy doesn’t have time to bite, "Come on, you'll like it."

"Not now, mate."

"No, now," Homelander shakes his head, frowning. He wonders what game Billy is playing here. Is he_ trying_ to get Homelander angry? Billy stares up at him, furious. Maybe it's a test. Maybe…maybe Billy wants Homelander to show him how much he loves him. That would explain why he threatened to fuck his neighbor. "Now, Billy. I love you, I'm going to show you."

"Yeah," Billy mumbles. "I love you, as well. But you ain't fuckin' me right now."

"Right, you love me," Homelander kisses him, again, and this time Billy kisses him back. He tilts his head up to get closer to Homelander, and Homelander lets his wrists go. "You love me, so-"

At which point Billy starts scrambling out of the bed.

"Billy, enough!" Homelander explodes. He can't take it anymore. He needs to have Billy, right now, to wash away the taste of that woman touching his Billy, and Billy needs a reminder of how much he's loved, and how claimed he is. And if Billy's going to act like a petulant child, Homelander is going to act like the adult in this relationship and make decisions for the both of them.

He catches Billy around the waist, and hoists him up. Holding Billy under one arm, Homelander walks over to Billy's closet, taking out a few ties before going back to the bed and sitting down, placing Billy in between his legs and closing them tightly to keep Billy trapped in place.

"Homelander," Billy says in a warning tone as Homelander grabs his hands and begins tying them together with one of the ties. "_Stop_."

"I'll make it so, so good," Homelander promises, then places a second tie into Billy's mouth, muffling his ability to speak. He knows Billy, and he's perfectly capable of screaming loud enough to get the attention of half the block if that's where his temper tantrum takes him. "Come on, Billy, a bit of faith, please. I once made you come six times in one night."

Billy glares up at him, and he swallows past the tie. He looks half angry and half apprehensive. Homelander assumes that he still thinks he's in trouble. He sighs and kisses Billy's temple and then undoes Billy's pants, pulling them and his underwear down. Billy's eyes widen.

Homelander grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand where Billy always keeps it, and generously lubes his fingers. Billy's shaking his head empathically, but Homelander elects to ignore it. He grabs Billy's hips and pulls him on his lap, and then grins at him as he sneaks in two fingers in, together.

Fuck, Billy's tight. Homelander groans as his fingers slip in to the knuckle. Billy's eyes close, and Homelander takes hold of his bound arms, hooking them around his neck. Billy barely reacts, but as Homelander begins scissoring him open, he can hear his breath hitch and his heartrate start running.

Homelander slips in a third finger, and Billy whimpers past the gag in his mouth. Grinning to himself, Homelander latches on to Billy's throat, kissing and biting with just the right amount of force, enough to create marks that will fade within the hour, just like Billy likes it. And as one hand works on Billy's ass, he uses the other to start working on Billy's dick. He runs his fingers on it, from shaft to tip, back and forth, slow and gentle to keep in rhythm with the fingers in Billy's ass.

Billy whimpers when Homelander finds is prostate and cups his balls at the same moment. His eyes squeeze closed even tighter, and Homelander can feel the clenching of his muscles all around him.

"It will hurt if you're so tense," Homelander whispers into his ear, taking a break from biting and kissing. As he talks, he twists his fingers around inside of Billy, reveling in the sweet clench of muscles against him. "I don't want it to hurt, Billy."

The only response he gets from Billy is an ineffective thrust from his legs, which are splayed on either side of Homelander's lap. Homelander shakes his head in amused exasperation, and begins pumping Billy's dick with vigor. Billy lets out a choked sob up at that, and Homelander's pleased to see him grow hard and fat in his hand.

"There we go," Homelander sighs, pleased. "You know I make you feel good. No one else can make you feel this good, not ever. Do you understand? No one, ever, will ever fuck you as well as I can fuck you, and you're not going to give anyone the chance to find out. You're mine, you belong to me, no one will ever touch you other than me. I will laser every single fucker who touches you."

Billy whimpers again, and his head falls down on Homelander's shoulder. Homelander kisses his forehead, again and again. He's ready now, but Homelander keeps working his fingers in and out for a few minutes, eyes closed and mouth ghosting over Billy's skin. He feels so content that he doesn’t want to risk ruining it by changing anything.

He's still in that position when Billy lets out a sob and buckles down. And then he's coming, white and hot into Homelander's fist. Homelander takes his fingers out of Billy's ass and uses that hand to bring Billy closer into his chest, and hugs him, hushing quietly, as Billy's orgasm plays out. He can smell it all around him, it was a good, strong one. He smirks to himself.

"There you go," Homelander says cheerfully to Billy, then unleashes his own hard dick. "Ready to go again?"

Billy doesn’t respond, curled into Homelander's lap. His heartrate is racing, and his breathing is uneven. Homelander considers giving him a moment to get back control, but then dismisses the idea. Billy will be fine as soon as he has Homelander's dick in him. He loves that.

He lifts Billy up into the air, then slowly lowers him onto his dick. They both groan as Homelander is swallowed into Billy's inviting body. He settles Billy down, fully seated in him. Billy's eyes flutter open, and his pupils are dilated. Desire is pouring out of him, seeping from every crevasse of his body. Homelander can practically taste it on his tongue.

Homelander smiles at Billy, and he closes his eyes again, pulling as far from Homelander as he can get. Which isn't very far, considering the arms around Homelander's neck and the dick in his ass. Undeterred, Homelander gently raises Billy again, before slamming him back down. Billy gasps, eyes flying open, and Homelander waves cheerfully at him.

"There you are," He coos, nudging Billy's nose with his own. "Keep your eyes open for me, buddy."

He gets a glare in response, so he repeats the process, raising Billy up and slamming him down. Billy's eyes widen, and this time he keeps them open through a choked off sob, shaking his head empathically. Homelander sighs and jerks his hips up, pushing his dick deeper into Billy. He knows he hits the spot he had been looking for when Billy cries out behind his gag and his head falls forward, into the space between his tied arms.

Homelander jerks his hips up again, then places his hands on Billy's hips and slowly picks him up, slowly pushing him down. He keeps this up, slowly increasing the speed. It takes around fifteen minutes of that to get Billy fully hard, but Homelander doesn't want to touch Billy's dick anymore. He wants Billy to come just from the feeling of him pounding into his ass. Which he absolutely can. They've done that before, more then once.

So he flips them over, and fucks Billy hard and fast, hands fisting into the sheets and tearing them into pieces. Billy's gone limp, eyes open and unseeing, body unmoving. Homelander groans, feeling his orgasm coming, and collapses on top of Billy's burrowing his nose into the nock between Billy's ear and neck.

When he comes, his vision blurs for a moment. He pumps Billy full of his hot come and then Billy twitches, breathes out, and comes as well. It's weaker than his first time, but still enough to make Billy shiver all over at the aftermath of his pleasure.

Still inside of Billy, Homelander places his palms on either side of his face and leans in, kissing Billy softly on the nose. Billy stares at him, expressionless, and his heartrate is very quickly returning to normal. Homelander takes the tie around Billy's mouth off and runs the back of his hand over his cheeks.

"That was good," He grins. "Ready to go again?"

Billy closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, his eyes are sad, and they're blurry, like he's about to cry. He raises his head slightly, and kisses him. The kiss is soft and tender but there's something in it that makes Homelander incredibly uncomfortable. He doesn’t even know why.

"John," Billy mumbles, and Homelander can hear the tears in his voice. "I love you; you hear?"

Homelander swallows, and gently pulls out of Billy. Billy hisses at the discomfort, and Homelander unties his arms. He sits down next to Billy's sprawled body and runs his fingers down Billy's spine under the shirt.

"I love you," Billy repeats, looking up at Homelander. Then he sits up, slowly, and wraps an arm around Homelander's neck, pulling him close so their noses touch. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok-"

"Get the fuck out," Billy whispers into his ear, pressing their foreheads together.

Homelander pushes away from Billy, looking at him with surprise.

"What? You don't want to go again?"

"What I want," Billy growls. "Is for you to get the bloody fuck out of my apartment, right now."

"No," Homelander shakes his head. "Why? You love me-"

"Yeah, I bloody do, fuck knows why," Billy slips out of the bed, and pulls his underwear and pants on, wincing. Sweat is tickling down his chest and spine, and Homelander licks his lips at the sight. "And now you raped me."

Homelander flinches, and shakes his head, "I made you feel good."

"Yeah, you did," Billy agrees, and Homelander smiles. But Billy keeps on talking. "And that don't matter. Leave."

"I'm not leaving, Billy," Homelander stands up, and starts walking towards him. Billy steps back, away from Homelander, eyes narrowed like he's preparing for attack. "We don't have to fuck again if you don't want, but I'm not leaving."

"You are," Billy insists, and then pulls out his gun from the closet behind him, pointing it at Homelander, hands steady. Fuck, he looks so handsome like that. He's so _beautiful_.

"Or what, pal, you'll shoot?" Homelander snorts. "Come on, you know that won't work."

"No?" Billy shrugs. "I suppose it ain't gonna hurt you. But it could call the paparazzi here in a tiffy."

Homelander freezes, "Billy-"

"I'm sure they'll be rather interested in hearing that the bloody Homelander raped an CIA agent, no?"

"You wouldn’t," Homelander scoffs. "You don’t want anybody to know about us."

"Would you like to try me?" Billy sneers.

"And even if you do," Homelander tries again, reasonably. "There's no way the media will believe that about me. I'm the Homelander, I don't hurt people. I protect them."

Vought would not allow anything like that to hit the news. They'd make Billy disappear before they allow that to happen. They'd kill Billy before they let that happen.

Fuck.

"Al right then," Billy shrugs. "So, how 'bout this? You come near me again, I will slit my wrists."

Homelander's heart jumps.

"I won't let you," He says automatically, wondering how Billy could ever think he'd let him take his own life. Or hurt himself in any way. Didn't he hear him say that he'll protect him? "I'll lock you up and tie you down if I need to."

"You can't stop me," Billy whispers. "You know if I want to do something, I bloody well will."

Billy's eyes shine, and Homelander realizes that Billy's right. Billy's far too stubborn and intelligent to be kept stashed away and hidden forever. No matter what Homelander does, Billy will eventually find a way around it. If he takes Billy away and locks him up in one of his various apartments, Billy will die, one day. He will kill himself.

"Billy," Homelander shakes his head. "Please, please don't do this."

The man shakes his head, and throws the gun on the floor. He raises his arms to Homelander, who rushes in immediately, holding him close. Billy pulls Homelander in, pressing their foreheads together. Billy breathes out, softly, and then kisses Homelander, hard and sharp and deep.

"I'm sorry," Billy mumbles. "Goodbye."

And then Homelander is left on his own, and Billy goes out into the living room. He closes his eyes, rubbing his face and trying to think. He can't. He needs to get out, right now, before he goes after Billy. If he does, he'll either end up fucking Billy again or flying away with him, or both. And he can't let that happen. Because either scenario will end up with Billy dead.

So he leaves.

*

The next time Billy and him meet face to face, he's got his forehead pressed against the brown-haired bitch's.


	4. Billy Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter will deal with child abuse and the sexual abuse of an underaged teen. Nothing will be describes in detail, but if these things trigger you, please be warned. This is a flashback chapter, so it can be more or less skipped if you really need to. Stay safe!

The thing is, Billy knows better then most that one can love someone who hurt them, and that one could easily love someone while hating them as well. Back in London, when Billy was a lad, his father was a boozer, who drowned in the bloody drink night after night. His mum was a goner by the time he was five, so it was only him and the bloody geezer for most of his childhood.

His dad was a rager. Liked to smash furniture and smash boys when he on the drink. Billy would hide under beds and in cupboards, and when his dad found him he dragged him by his hair to the living room and threw him on the ground. And when it was over, and his dad was coming down from his highs, Billy would crawl into the man's lap and hug him, and his dad would cry and apologize.

And Billy loved him so bloody much.

He was ten when a rather bad rage left his arm broken. He weren't the only pupil in his primary school that got beat upon by their sire, so until then he'd been mostly ignored. But a broken and mangled arm is too much for even his rather non-perceptive homeroom teacher to not notice that something may be rather off.

Billy remembers the day when they took him away from his pop. Came to the school and whisked him away. He never even got the chance to say goodbye. He wouldn't see him again until he died two years later.

And Billy could never stop loving him.

He was placed in a group home which was run by an elderly woman called Mrs. Rochford, who walked around with a cane and knew how to use it. Billy got a rather large brunt of that cane, not being the most well-behaved lad. But one night, the night he was told his dad had buggered off, Billy lay on his bed and cried, and Mrs. Rochford came into the room and rubbed his back and comforted him.

And Billy hated her, and he loved her as well. She was the one bloody human in the world who gave him food and a bed to sleep on, and tucked him in at night and beat him with her cane when he misbehaved.

In college high school, there was a lad a few years older than him, by the name of James Palmer, who taught Billy a few rather important lessons. First, he taught him that he found the sensation of a cock in his arse to be rather pleasant, and that he found it much more pleasurable then having _his _cock in some else's arse.

He also learned that he should not, under any circumstance, trust his own instincts when it comes to relationships.

It all started rather simple. They were sitting in Jim's parents' attack, completely plastered. Or at least Billy was. Looking back, he could never be certain how much Jim had drunk. But he kept handing Billy cups of booze and rolling new fags for him to smoke.

Jim watched Billy from the corner of his eyes. Billy could feel the gaze on him. He could sense that Jim was waiting for something, but he had no bloody idea what for. So he just slumped down, completely knackered, and smiled up dreamily at the ceiling. There were dancin' Buckingham Palace guards up there. His class had gone on a trip there the week before.

That was when Jim made his move. Grabbing Billy's shoulders, he threw him down on the ground and forced his legs apart.

"Wha-" Billy started, but it was bloody hard to concentrate while above him three giraffes were doin' the tango.

"Shut it, mate," Jim hummed, pulling down Billy's pants.

"Wait-no, no," Fuck, if he did this, Mrs. Rochford could bloody well disembowel him.

"It's all right," Jim's hand snuck into Billy's underwear. "You can do me next."

Billy started to shake his head wildly, which really made him go hanking onto the floor next to his head, and Jim rolled his eyes and tugged Billy away from the vomit.

"Bloody hell, Billy, that's vile," Jim spread Billy's legs again and leant down. This time Billy went limp and unmoving under him.

He lost his virginity that night. He was fourteen, Jim was eighteen. They stayed together until the end of term, when Jim buggered off to the army. He died there a few months later during a training exercise gone wrong. Billy cried himself to sleep every night for bloody months.

When he looks back now, about that night, what strikes him the most is the next morning. How he'd gone straight up to Jim the moment he spotted him at school, delighted to see him. He hadn't even needed to excuse Jim's behavior in his own mind. He never doubted for a moment that Jim had hurt him, done something wrong.

So bloody what? That didn't mean Jim didn't care for him.

His next relationship had come two years later. He was sixteen, and so was she. Alice Holt, his newest foster sister. Alice had been removed from her home after it was discovered that her mum'd been renting her out for five teners an hour. Alice slept in the bedroom next to Billy's so they shared a wall, and could knock on it during the night, a sign to come over for a quick shag.

Alice enjoyed riding him, fast and hard. And while she rode him she'd choke him, eyes wide with fury, until he could barely fuckin' breathe. It was what one of her recurring clients used to do to her.

Four months after coming to live with them, Alice was discovered tryin' the same shite with one of the younger boys, and she was sent away. Billy wasn't told where.

He'd screamed and cursed Mrs. Rochford, begging her to get Alice back. She was just a confused little girl, and she hadn't meant any harm. Mrs. Rochford had shook her head but said nothin'.

This time, Billy didn't cry over his lost lover. He bought a fake ID, went to the pub and blew a planker in the dirty restroom.

That was how his third relationship started. He started goin' down to pubs, sneakin' out of his bedroom window night after night and taking the tube all around the city. Lookin' back, Billy has no fuckin' idea how he didn't get infected with nothin' durin' that time. Sixteen-year-old Billy did not exactly insist on his shag partners puttin' rubber on their cock.

A few months later, Billy got into his third relationship. It started like all of his fucks those days. He'd gone to a pub at a rather posh part of town, and had stolen a relatively nice and proper shirt from his foster brother to be allowed into the pub. Even with the shirt, though, he'd been stopped at the door, and had to try and charm his way in.

Billy was rather good at charming idiots, but even his considerable talents hadn't seemed to be makin' any headway. He'd been ready to give up, and go somewhere else when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a fit bloke around thirty years old, smilin' down at him. The man was rather posh lookin', and Billy got the urge to try and rob him.

"It's quite all right, Tom," The bloke nodded at the chucker-out. He spoke with one of the poshest voices Billy had ever bloody heard in person. It was the kind of voice you'd hear on the telly if it was showing the House of Lords. "This young man is with me."

Tom had hesitated, but then nodded, and moved to allow the posh man to pass.

"Are you coming, young man?" The bloke had smiled at Billy. There was a clear predatory glint in his eyes, that should have bloody warned Billy off, but he'd wanted to get pissed and didn't want to have to find another pub.

"Yeah, all right," Billy had shrugged and walked in.

The bloke introduced himself as Neal Phillip Ashton, head of one bloody big company or another. He piled Billy with booze and sat besides him, gettin' closer and closer as the night waned.

"So, how old are you, truly?" Neal asked as Billy downed his fourth drink. Billy noted, through the haze in his mind, that his hand was migrating down to Billy's thigh. "You're not eighteen, as your ID suggests."

"Mate, I if I ain't eighteen, you're breakin' the bloody law, ain't yeah?"

"Hmm," Neal's hand migrated to Billy's cock. "I don't mind breaking the law now and then. And I'm quite fond of younger men."

So that was how that started.

He met with Neal on the weekends. Neal took him to his penthouse flat and fucked him on his huge bed. Neal weren't like Jim, and he weren't like Alice neither. He was older, and he knew what he was doin'. He gave Billy his best orgasms so far, left him groanin' and pantin' and unable to sit on his arse for quite a while later.

Two months after they'd started shaggin', Neal rang Billy and asked him to come to his flat right away. It was a Wednesday, and Billy was studying with his mates. But when Neal rang him, he left his mate's place and rushed over, eager to please.

When he got to the flat, Neal weren't the only one there. There was another bloke there, a bit older than Neal, who was sittin', shirt open, by the table. Billy froze when he saw him.

"Ah," Neal had grinned when Billy walked into the flat. "There he is."

"Who the fuck's this?"

Neal laughed and went over to Billy, clasping his shoulders, far too hard, "William's got a bit of a mouth on him, but he knows how to use it, I assure you."

The other bloke had nodded, lookin' Billy over, "He's a good-looking lad."

"Isn’t he just?" Neal had pushed Billy slightly forward. "Well, I'll be back in an hour or so. You've brought the money, Henry, haven’t you?"

"Of course. Five thousand pounds, as agreed on," The bloke- Henry, had stood up, movin' towards Billy. Billy had tried to move away, but Neal's strong hands had stopped him in his tracks.

"I ain't stayin' with this fucker," Billy had announced, but he was shakin' like a fuckin' leaf, so it didn’t come off as intimidatin' as he'd hoped for. And in fact, the only reaction he got from both adults was a condescendin' laughter.

"Don’t you worry, young man," Henry had said after he'd finished laughin'. "I'll make you feel quite good."

"Ain't interested."

"William," Neal's voice had gone down on octave, into a warnin' tone that made Billy stiffen. It reminded him of Mrs. Rochford's tone right before she spanked the piss out of him. "Go into the bedroom and take your clothes off."

"Nea-"

And that had been when Neal had slapped Billy. Hard. He'd stumbled backwards, holding his throbbin' cheek and feelin' blood in his mouth.

"Oi! What the hell are you doing, damaging him?"

"He's fine," Neal had grabbed Billy shirt and pulled him over to him. "Aren't you, William?"

"I'm fine," Billy had said automatically, legs shakin'.

"There's a lad," Neal had smiled and caressed Billy's hair. The tender touch sent a shiver down Billy's spine. "Now, to the bedroom. Clothes off. If you're good, I'll give you a treat, yes?"

Henry had whispered his name as he came. _William, William_. He'd never been able to handle being called William after that.

Neal had given him a bloody_ treat_. Three hundred dollars. Billy had thrown the money into the gutter. When he found himself longin' for Neal and wantin' to see him, he'd started seein' the fuckin' pattern. So, he blocked Neal from his cell, and never heard from him again. And got to thinkin'.

And that was when the lesson he had learned from Jim cemented itself in his mind. Never trust your own bloody mind. Billy's partners could beat him to a pulp, and he wouldn't think there was a thing wrong. So, he made a commitment to himself: a lover leaves a mark on his body, he leaves. Don't matter if it don't feel like a serious affair, don't matter if they have reasons. His mind cannot be trusted to make those kinds of bloody assortations. 

He kept to that decision with bloody religious zeal. Until the fuckin' Homelander entered the scene.

Homelander, John, his hands tightening around Billy's wrists, leaving these dreaded marks. And that should have been that. He should have thrown him out, cut all tires, throw the necklace in the rubbish bin and forgotten all about Homelander.

He couldn’t.

The words refused to come out of his mouth. He stared at John and couldn't fuckin' do it. Couldn't lose the bloody bastard.

He loved him. Loved him like he loved his drunken father, like he loved Mrs. Rochford and Jim and Alice and Neal. Like that love was an organ in his body that could not be cut out without makin' Billy bleed to his death. It was just much fuckin' stronger than most of those. He loved John more then Jim or Alice or Neal.

So, really, what happened next was partially on him. He bloody knew how these things ended. He fuckin' _knew_.

But he still can't tear that bloody organ out. He keeps the necklace on, can't bring himself to take it off, keeps Terror. When he wanks, it's John's face he sees, his fingers he imagines instead of his own.

Two months later, he asks Becca (who he's become quite good friends with) out. Four months later, they move in together. He proposes six months after that.

It's all rather simple, really. He loves Homelander, and he hates him. He loves Becca, he don't hate her.

When Becca tells him she got a job at Vought, Billy feels like someone has torn him in half. He don't want Becca anywhere near Homelander. Not that he thinks John would hurt her. He's quite sure he's the only person the bloody Homelander has ever hurt, and that was because the Supe had been rather…emotionally compromised at the time.

No, he don’t want Becca anywhere near John because that would put _him_ closer to John. And he'd rather eat a bag of cat dongs then be anywhere near John. He ain't able to tell her that, and can't bring himself to try and stop her from takin' the job, not when he sees the excited look in her eyes when she gets the call. But he hopes to fuckin' god he's never required to go anywhere near Homelander.

He ain't sure if he'd try to blow his bloody head off or blow something rather further down. Both would be hazardous to his physical and mental state. And besides, Becca is clean and pure, and he wants to keep her that way. He don't want her to know what a bloody mess he is, pinning after his rapist.

He wonders sometimes if it's healthy to feel that one bad night can't quite erase six good months.

Yeah. Not bloody likely. Billy's mind was a fuckin' minefield. He still dreams about John, dreams that he comes into his room and touches him and whispers into his ear, and when he wakes up the next morning, he always finds himself wet and sticky.

It's for all those reasons that Billy is not at all enthused over the idea of going to Vought's tower for a bloody party with Becca, where he's bound to see John.

Or, well, Homelander. He's certainly not goin' to act like the John that Billy knew while he's surrounded by all those bloody sycophants.

But he can't convince Becca not to go, it’s important for her standing in the company and her career, and as much as he doesn’t want to see Homelander, he wants Becca to see him by herself ever less. So, in the end, he agrees to go, and even agrees to put on a suit. But he refuses the blue tie Becca offers him.

Homelander liked blue on him. It's also the same colour tie as the one Homelander used to tie him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for the kudos and comments :)


	5. 2012: Part 1

He eavesdrops on Billy and his bitch while he's talking to the head of the makeup department. It's taking an enormous amount of self-control to just stand there, when all he wants to do is swoop down and carry Billy off in his arms. He hasn't been this close to Billy while he was awake in so, so long. Watching him from the necklace camera or spying on him from afar just isn’t the same.

And now, here he is, right underneath Homelander, awake and aware. And soon they're going to meet again.

He smirks when he hears Billy complain about the food at the party, and when he starts chugging down his drink (of course he's nervous, he's about to meet the love of his life again) but the smile slips off when his bitch insinuates that she's planning on having Billy fuck her once they get home. And he can't take it anymore, and abandons the man he's been talking to with a fake smile. He needs to get to them before Billy kisses her. He's seen Billy kissing her, and fucking her, often during the past three and a half years, obviously, but not while he's _right there_ and completely _ignored_.

"Merry Christmas!" He goes down the stairs, getting the pair's attention just in time to prevent them from kissing, and they turn away from each other. Homelander looks straight at the woman and points at her. "Becca."

He hears his Billy's heartrate start thumping, and fuck, Billy looks_ good_ in a suit. When Homelander gets him back, he's going to expose their relationship to the press and trot Billy out in suits, every day. The media would go nuts, lose their shit. So would Homelander's fans. They'll be whole sites dedicated to the two of them.

Homelander recites Becca's job description, and of course he knows it, he made sure she got it. Made sure she was required to work late at night as often as possible, so he could safely sneak into their place to the sleeping Billy. Fuck, those times are the best. He's gotten a drug that he administrates through Billy's ear that keeps the man on the verge of wakefulness, half aware but unable to move. It's not as good as having Billy awake and working with him, but it carries its own thrill. Billy moans and moves around, trying to get himself fully awake but completely unable to, and Homelander gets to work, kissing down his exposed chest, tugging down the flannel pants he sleeps in (Billy sleeps commando, always has, but Homelander much preferred it when he was the one crawling into Billy's bed after him), and gives him a hand or head, rubs their dicks together until they both come and their jizz mingles on the bed. He can't fuck Billy- there's no way the man wouldn't notice _that_ when he finally wakes up- but he comforts himself in the knowledge that at least no one else is. That's really the only reason he can even slightly tolerate Becca. He's not a fan of Billy fucking other people, but at least his hole remains clean of another human's taint.

Becca would be dead if she had a dick and was prepared to use it, hang the fucking consequences.

He does almost break Becca's neck on the spot when she introduces Billy to him. Who the fuck does she think she is, introducing his own lover to him? _This is my husband_…as if she has some claim over him, as if she's anything other than a distraction, a way for Billy to try and forget him. And she hasn't even succeeded at that. Billy still has his necklace on, under that suit. He never took it off. He still has the dog, and most importantly, Homelander still hears Billy whispering his name while he masturbates in the shower, safe in the knowledge that his bitch would never hear him above the running water.

It's ok, though. He's patient. He's waited for three and a half years to get his Billy back, and it will just make it that much sweeter when he slips into that tight, hot body again. And that will come soon. He's made sure that Becca Saunders (he can't think of her as Becca Butcher, he just can't) got the job that she now has, the job that would get her invited to Vought's parties, with a plus-one. And then he would see Billy again, without scaring Billy into trying to hurt himself like he'd threatened.

But all he says is, "Great to meet you."

There isn't a moment of hesitation before Billy responds with his name, and takes his extended hand. And it's like an electrical current goes through Homelander. He's never felt anything like it. For a moment, the world completely stops, and the only thing he can see is Billy. Billy, Billy, Billy. Heartbeat racing, pupils ever so slightly dilated. It could be from the drink, from his bitch. But Homelander knows it's from him.

The conversation continues for a bit, with Homelander explaining what Becca did with his Twitter. He calls her Billy's beautiful wife, and technically that's not wrong. She is very beautiful, and she _is_ his wife. At least for now. It still brings bile to his tongue to say it out loud.

And then, _of course_, Billy accuses him of deception, and it's so Billy that when Homelander defends himself his smile is completely honest. And he can tell that Billy realizes that. God, even after all this time, Billy hasn't lost his talent of seeing right through him. He missed that, fuck how much he missed that. Even Madelyn can't tell.

The conversation comes to a natural conclusion, Maeve calling him, after Homelander suggest Becca and he meet. He can see Billy narrowing his eyes, suspicious and unsure. He's going to have take care of that. Can't have Billy stopping what's about to happen.

He says his goodbyes from Billy, shakes his hand again, and then forces himself to leave. But not before telling Billy, "Love that accent." Loves to hear it breathing out his name while he comes. Billy stiffens slightly, as if he can read Homelander's thought. And maybe he can read it on his face. Homelander wouldn't put it past his lovely Billy.

"How the fuck does he walk around in that sweaty fucking wetsuit all day, balls mashed up against his legs like pancakes?"

Wooow. He had no idea Billy was such a glutton for punishment. He must be, because otherwise he wouldn't be sharing one of their _private fucking jokes _with his bitch. Homelander is finding it fucking difficult to smile and make small talk with Maeve on his arm while Billy grins with his bitch.

"I need to shake just a few more hands, just a few, and then I swear we can go," Becca promises, and Homelander slants a look at the two of them to see her kissing Billy gently on the mouth.

"Then I'll go take a piss," Billy says. And if that's not an invitation then Homelander doesn't know what is.

"Excuse me," He says with a grin to the people he and Maeve are talking to, and kisses Maeve on the cheek. She frowns at him, able to tell that something was wrong, and starts following him to the bathroom.

"Where are you going? We're not done here."

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Homelander lies. "Go entertain people."

"Homelander-"

"Maeve, get the fuck away," Homelander growls at her.

Maeve bites her lip and shakes her head, "I don't like that look in your eyes. Don't do anything-"

"Maeve, I swear to God if you don't step away-"

"Fine, fine," Maeve waves her hand and turns away. Homelander grits his teeth, furious at the interruption, and makes his way to the men's bathroom.

*

Billy is alone in the bathroom when Homelander walks in. He's leaning against the running faucet, gasping and dry heaving. When he hears the door open, Billy looks up at the mirror and his eyes widen.

Homelander smiles gently and locks the door behind him. Billy swallows, still looking at the mirror, but doesn’t move when Homelander walks over to him. They stare at each in the mirror for a moment, and then Homelander moves, slowly, gently, like Billy is a spooked animal, and wraps an arm around Billy's waist.

Billy grows limp in his arm, and leans his head against Homelander's shoulder. Homelander places his free hand on Billy's forehead, keeping him in place. Billy closes his eyes as Homelander pulls his head to the side, exposing his neck, and begins kissing it. Fuck, fuck, _fuck, fuck_. Homelander has missed this so much, missed Billy's taste and smell and feel so fucking much he wants to scream. He wants to fuck Billy on the floor right fucking now, but he can't. He needs to take things slowly. Can't have Billy bolting again.

"I've missed you," Homelander whispers into Billy's ear, holding him close. "I missed you so much."

Billy lets out a choked sob and his eyes fly open. They're full of lust and confusion and anger and hatred. No fear. Never fear. He pushes away from Homelander, and Homelander lets him, because he's not worried about him trying to get away.

His Billy turns around, so they're face to face, and then he leans in and kisses him, hard. Biting Homelander's lower lip and tugging at it. Homelander moans out in pleasure, wondering how he managed to survive for three and a half years without Billy's mouth against his. He grabs Billy's ass and raises him into the air, carrying him before placing him on the counter. Billy wraps his legs around Homelander's waist, tugging him in.

And then Billy pulls himself away, and places his forehead against Homelander's. They breathe out together, and Homelander closes his eyes, running his fingers through Billy's hair, messing it up.

"I can’t," Billy whispers, but he doesn’t move. And his heartrate is racing. Homelander can smell the adrenaline on him. "I can't, Becca-"

"I don't want to hear about fucking Becca," Homelander growls, and grabs the back of Billy's neck, keeping him in place. Billy closes his eyes.

"I love her."

"Yeah? And here you are, kissing someone else," Homelander points out. "So, you want keeping doing that-"

"I ain't cheating on my wife," Billy growls. "I won't cheat on her like you cheated on Maeve with me."

Homelander snorts, does Billy really not get it?

"Billy, Billy, Billy," Homelander runs his thumb over Billy's jaw, still holding his head in place. Not that Billy is fighting him. "I didn't cheat on Maeve with you, I cheated on _you_ with _Maeve_. And you aren't cheating on Becca with me, you've been cheating on _me _with _Becca_."

Billy tries to jerk away, and Homelander lets him, so they can look each other in the eyes.

"We ain't in a relationship," Billy growls, "I ended it, remember?"

"And yet here you are, kissing me and smelling like you're about to get hard," Homelander points out. "And you must have known that I'd come into the bathroom after you."

Billy shakes his head, "I love Becca."

Homelander notices that he didn't even to try to deny any of Homelander's points. He kisses Billy's forehead gently and reminds him, "You love _me_."

"Yeah," Billy choked out. "That too."

"Billy, you can't love two people at once," Homelander says reasonably, pulling Billy nearer to kiss behind his ear. Billy automatically tilts his head slightly, to give Homelander better access to that spot.

"Maybe- _fuck_\- maybe normal people can’t, but I'm a bit of a nutter," Billy groans, and wraps his arms around Homelander's neck.

"You're not crazy," Homelander snaps, insulted. He's not in love with a _crazy person_. "There's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect."

The only thing wrong with Billy is that he's not currently with him. But they're going to fix that, soon enough.

Billy snorts, and then turns to Homelander. They stare at one another for a moment and then Billy attacks.

He places his hands on either side of Homelander's face, cupping him in, and pushes up, kissing him gently. Homelander lets Billy take control of their kiss, set the pace. He has time, he can wait. Eventually they'll get where he wants them to get. It might take some time, but he'll have Billy spread out on his bed right here in Vought Tower eventually, fingered and fucked out of his mind. He'll be there night after night, whenever Homelander gets back from his missions. No more of his own places, no more dangerous CIA work. He'll be pampered and kept safe in Vought Tower, and Homelander's other places until the day he dies. Homelander has learned his lesson. No more friends and no more neighbors. He can't trust anyone with Billy, clearly. For God's sake, he leaves him to his own devices and a year later Becca Saunders has already got him to propose to her.

Homelander grabs Billy's jacket, and tugs him closer. Billy lets out a moan that is swallowed into Homelander's mouth, and releases Homelander's face to wraps his arms around his neck, instead. As Homelander slips his tongue into Billy's mouth, the man's legs tighten around Homelander. The only way they could be closer is if Homelander was deep inside of Billy.

Homelander licks Billy's mouth, mapping it with his tongue, reclaiming it. Billy tastes like Becca, but Homelander quickly washes that taste away, until the only thing there is Billy's own taste, and of course, Homelander's.

He feels himself growing hard as Billy meets his tongue with his own, and they slink around each other, playing with one another. He lets go of Billy's jacket to move down to his pants, and unzips it.

Billy freezes, and pulls his face away. He's flushed and his hair is messed up and he's so beautiful Homelander wants to throw him over his shoulder and take him out into the hall to show him off, to show Becca what Billy looks like when he's _really_ having a good time.

"Homelander-"

"This one is just for you, Billy," Homelander quickly kisses him, before getting down on his knees. Billy's the only one in the world that gets that treatment. He's a god, he doesn’t get on his knees for anyone.

And Billy doesn’t realize how incredible it is that he does for him. Billy has absolutely no idea how fucking lucky he is.

"Stop, don't," Billy tries to push away, so Homelander places one hand on his hip, keeping him in place while he slips Billy's dick out. "Home-"

Homelander looks up, playing with the tip of Billy's dick, "Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes?"

"You sure, buddy?" Homelander doesn't stop, just increases his pace.

Billy swallows, and then shakes his head. Homelander smirks.

"That's what I thought," He keeps caressing Billy's dick, running his fingers on it, up and down. "I give better head then Becca, don't I?"

"Shut it," Billy snaps, head falling backwards to hit the mirror. "Don't fuckin' talk about Becca."

"Gladly," Homelander scoffs. He'd gladly not talk about Becca Saunders for the rest of his life. So instead of talking about Billy's bitch, he focuses on Billy's dick.

Billy lets out a ring of curses as Homelander starts licking his dick, up and down. And wow-he's not entirely sure how he spent three and a half years thinking that doing this while Billy was half asleep was good enough. Because Billy's responses while he's being pleasured are the fucking best.

Homelander hasn't heard some of those cockney curses in three and a half years. Billy uses some of them with Becca, but the more…colorful ones are clearly just for Homelander. He's never, ever, ever used them while Becca's blowing him. Well, it isn't like Homelander needs proof that he's better at this then Becca, but it's still nice to get more.

"Fuc-" Billy groans and grabs Homelander's hair, tugging it so hard he tears it. Homelander smirks and leans down to take Billy's balls into his mouth. "J-"

He stops himself, and Homelander sucks the two balls before releasing them and moving back up, wrapping his hand around Billy's neck.

"Say it," Homelander tells him. "Say my name."

Billy closes his eyes and shakes his head. Homelander smirks and kisses Billy's forehead. He'll say his name by the end of their little meeting. Homelander moves back down.

He opens his mouth and takes Billy's head into his mouth, licking it with his tongue. Billy moans and Homelander looks up to see him hit his head against the mirror while his hands grope around until they land on Homelander's shoulders, and he grabs them, hard enough for his knuckles to grow white.

He can't do this with Becca, can't hold on that tightly. She's a weak mudwoman and she'd get hurt. And Homelander knows that Billy needs that, it makes him feel safe and secure to be able to hold on so tightly. Billy sobs out and Homelander caress him gently, trying to calm him down a bit. He's safe now, he can relax.

Homelander sucks the head, keeping his eyes on Billy, watching his chest move up and down as he pants, his white throat exposed and laying there, unmarked for Homelander to reclaim. Homelander runs his fingers up and down Billy's dick as he kept sucking his head. Billy's growing hard with wonderful speed, and a few minutes later he's fully hard in Homelander's mouth.

Homelander places his hands on Billy's thighs, pulling him in as he envelops his own dick into his mouth. Billy whimpers, and falls forward, hugging onto Homelander's back. Homelander loves Billy so much it's like a psychical pain in his belly. He's starting to think that God created Billy especially for Homelander, because he's fucking perfect.

He sucks Billy's hard dick hard and fast, just like Billy likes it. He can smell Billy's sweat and lust in the air as Billy's holds on to him harder. Homelander keeps working over Billy's dick, and as he does so, he wraps his hands under Billy's ass and lifts them in the air, hovering a few feet from the ground. Billy lets out a crazily hysterical laughter as his legs thrust in the air.

When he can taste precome on his tongue, Homelander squeezes Billy's ass hard, which makes Billy whimper out loud and come into Homelander's mouth. He yells through his orgasm, and Homelander keeps sucking him through it, swallowing everything up. When it's over, Homelander gently hovers back to the ground and places Billy back on the counter. Then he looks up to see Billy's eyes are clouded over and full of tears.

"J-J-_John_," Billy gasps out and Homelander smirks at his victory.

"There he is," Homelander coos, and cups Billy's face in his hands. "There's my Billy."

Billy grabs Homelander's wrists and closes his eyes, "Fuck off."

"I love you," Homelander replies cheerfully, in far too good a mood to let Billy's stubbornness get to him. And then he kisses Billy deeply, making sure to slip some of Billy's come into his own mouth. Billy lets out a half-hearted moan of protest, but then just collapses into Homelander's hold and allows himself to be kissed and caressed and cuddled.

When their kiss breaks, Homelander starts to think that he won't even have to implement the second part of his plan, he could just get Billy to leave his bitch and comes with him, right now. Billy looks dazed and unsure of himself, like he needs to be comforted and led.

"Come with me upstairs," Homelander tries.

Billy hugs Homelander's neck, hard, and whispers into his ear, "I can’t."

"You can," Homelander gathers Billy into his arms, holding him like a baby. "You can come with me right now, Billy. You can come with me and be safe."

Billy stiffens in his arms, and pushes on Homelander's chest, trying to release himself. Homelander tightens his hold on him, automatically.

"Why do you want to meet Becca?" Billy demands.

Homelander shrugs, "I want to give her the promotion, make her work closer with me."

"The fuck you'd want to do that for?"

"Oh, that's simple," Homelander nudges Billy's nose with his own. "It keeps _you_ closer to me."

Billy's eyes narrow, "I don't want nothing to do with you, fucker."

"Billy-"

"You raped me," Billy says, incredibly calm. "Put me the fuck down."

Homelander shakes his head, "I love you, I'm sorry about what happened, but it was just once, it's not such a big deal. How many times do I have to apologize to you?"

"Put me the fuck down or-"

They both freeze when the door handle wiggles, and someone slams his fists on the door.

"Hi, open up!"

Homelander rolls his eyes, it's Translucent.

"Put me down," Billy whispers in his ear, and this time Homelander sighs and complies. Billy zips up his pants and takes a deep breath, and as he starts walking towards the door, Homelander grabs his wrist and twirls him around. He tugs his jacket and shirt back into place and nudges Billy's chin up.

"Come on, I've got to go!"

Ignoring Translucent completely, Homelander kisses Billy gently. Billy doesn’t kiss him back, but doesn’t fight him, either.

"I'll see you soon, Billy," Homelander promises. And then he leaves Billy, stunned and alone, to get himself under control and back to his bitch.

*

Homelander lays in his bed in one of his penthouses, the one he bought after Billy moved, since it's only a few streets away from Billy's new place. This apartment is set up for when Billy will come to live with him. The game room has a poker table, a chess set made of ivory and pool table (he's never been able to play pool with Billy, a game he often plays with his friends when he goes out). He's also built an indoor gym (the Vought employers had frowned at that, since Homelander himself doesn’t need to exercise) and the penthouse has a huge pool. There's a home theater and huge kitchen. Everything Billy would need to have a good life. He's still not entirely sure what Billy will do all day when he lives with him. Knowing Billy, he'd go crazy if he has nothing to do. Homelander will have to find him a job inside Vought, where there would be no idiots trying to touch him.

He grins to himself. Tonight has gone incredibly well. In fact, other than having Billy give in and come home with him, he's not sure how it could have gone _better_. And there was always a very small chance of that happening. Billy was a stubborn fuck, there was no doubt about it. He will need far, far more persuading.

In the meantime, Homelander takes out his phone to see what Billy is up to. He seems to be fighting his bitch. She's screaming and stomping back and forth while Billy sits on the bed. Homelander gets the impression, from reading her lips, that Billy is trying to convince her not to meet him alone tomorrow, but won't tell her why. His bitch is not pleased.

Curious to see what's happening in between them, Homelander flies over to Billy's building and perches in his regular spot. When he gets there, he sees Becca rub her face and say, "I don't understand-"

"I ain't saying you shouldn't meet him," Billy, sitting at the dining room table, looks down at his entwined fingers. "I'm just askin' you don't meet him _alone_."

"Billy," Becca sighs, and comes to sit in front of him. She slips her hands on the table and grasps his. "I can't work at Vought if I'm not willing to work with the supes. They're-"

"This ain't about supes, this is about Homelander," Billy pushes Becca's hands away. "I don’t want you meetin' him."

"Why?" Becca asks, sounding exasperated. Homelander grins to himself. "Are you worried I'm going to try and seduce Homelander?"

She smiles, but Billy doesn't smile back. Homelander doesn't either.

"You're not serious-"

"That ain't what I think," Billy says quickly. "It ain't you I'm worried about."

"Then what- are you worried that Homelander will try to do something?" Becca looks incredulously at Billy. "Come on, he's_ Homelander_."

"Yeah…" Billy looks down at the table.

"Billy," Becca sighs deeply. "Billy, why don't you trust me?"

"I trust you," Billy glares. "It's_ him_ I don't trust."

Homelander stiffens, not at all enjoying _that_ statement.

"But_ why_?" Becca grabs her hair. "Why? Why don't you trust him? You don't know him!"

They stare at each other, and Homelander can see the conflict in Billy's eyes. He can almost see the confusion going on in his mind, the uncertainty over what to tell Becca.

"Don’t you dare, Billy," Homelander mumbles. "Don't you dare tell her about us."

He didn't want Billy sharing these things with his bitch.

"Billy?" Becca frowns.

"Right," Billy clears his throat. "I don't know him. Just don't bloody trust him."

"Ok," Becca takes a deep breath. "Listen, I can't promise that I won't meet with Homelander alone, but I promise I won't go out of my way to spend time with him. Good enough?"

Billy's face says no, but his mouth says, "All right. No need to give me a bollocking."

"Thank you," Becca smiles and walks over to kiss Billy's forehead. "Let's get to bed, hmm?"

"I'll be there in a tick, yeah?" Billy looks up and tries to smile at her. "Got to hit the loo."

"Hurry up," Becca whispers into his ear. "Or I'll have to start without you."

She gently nibbles on Billy's ear, and Homelander feels the familiar anger well up in him. Even three and a half years later, that jealously has not faded. If anything, it's gotten worse. Usually, that anger is doubled and tripled by Billy's enthusiastic responses. Tonight, though, Billy flinches slightly away from his wife's touch.

Becca frowns, "Billy-"

"Sorry, gotta go tinkle," Billy says hurriedly, and runs to the bathroom. Homelander watches Becca rush after Billy, but she doesn’t make it in time to stop Billy from locking the door. He just makes it to the toilet before he throws up all the food he ate throughout the Christmas party. Billy heaves, then throws up again as Becca pounds on the door.

"Billy? Are you sick?"

Billy looks hollowly at the locked door, and croaks out, "Yeah, a bit."

"Shit," Becca mumbles, then calls out, "I'll make you tea, ok?"

Billy shrugs and slumps down on the floor, rubbing his eyes. They're red, and there are tears sparkling in them. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and then a sob breaks out from his throat. Billy quickly claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, his chest going up and down with erratic breathes, until he manages to calm himself a bit, and then stands up.

Homelander watches as Billy stares at himself in the mirror. He looks slightly broken, slightly lost. Homelander bites his lip as Billy takes another deep breath, and unlock the door, going back to his bitch.

They don't end up fucking that night, delightfully. Becca fusses over Billy like he's a dying man, giving him his tea and tucking him into bed. Billy allows her to do with him what she wants, and once Becca is asleep, curled into Billy, he lays in the bed, eyes closed, fingers playing with his necklace.


	6. 2012: Part 2

A few days later, Homelander has his meeting with Becca. He grins and invites her into his office, and then locks the door behind him and sits on his huge chair, spinning back and forth and ginning up at Becca, who takes a seat in front of him, looking excited and slightly nervous. Man, Homelander is getting deja vu from that time he killed Billy's partner. Billy's a hard man to keep away from other people. It really should be easier to control this one man then it is for Supes to control the whole of the USA.

Homelander grins at Becca, and attacks.

Ok, yeah, he gets it. Becca is a good lay. She comes three times, which is nowhere near Billy's record of six, but it's still pretty impressive. Still, it's not like the ability to come a large amount of time is something that can impress Billy, _his _never had.

Still in Becca, he grabs her chin and pushes her head so that's they're face to face. She's crying, fat ugly tears running down her cheeks, and she's red and shivering. She's not so beautiful anymore. She just looks like used goods.

"You and I, we need to have a long conversation," He tells her. Becca blinks at him, then nods, taking a deep breath. Clearly trying to compose herself.

Homelander pulls out of Becca and tucks himself back in as he walks to his chair. He folds one leg other the other and waits while Becca gets control over herself and pushes herself against the wall, combing her hair back and rubbing her eyes.

They watch each other for a moment, and then Homelander said, "I need something from you."

Becca swallows, her heart starting to pump again, and Homelander laughs, amused.

"No, not that," He shakes his head. "Come on, I mean, we _just_ did that."

Becca doesn't seem to find it as amusing as Homelander does, so she shrugs and moves on.

"This is about your husband."

Becca stills, growing incredibly quiet, and then quietly says, "If you touch Billy-"

"If I were you," Homelander says conversationally, eyes shining red, "I wouldn't say his name. Or threaten me. But that's more pointless than anything else."

Becca closes her mouth. Smart girl.

"So. I have a job for you," Homelander rubs his hands together. "This is what you're going to do. You're going to go home, you're going to tell Billy that you don't love him, that you never loved him, and that you're breaking up with him. You're going to do all of this in the cruelest and most heartbreaking way you can. I won’t tell you how, I'm sure you can figure that part out."

"Why?" Becca croaks out. "Do you want me-"

"This has nothing to do with you," Homelander snaps. God, what a disgusting idea. As if he could ever be interested in a slut like her.

"Then this is about-" Becca seems to catch herself in time. "About my husband."

"I wouldn’t call him that either, if I were you and I was interested in keeping my nipples attached to my pretty little tits," Homelander suggests, smiling.

"Ok," Becca whispers and swallows. "What-what do you want from him?"

"I think it's a bit inappropriate to discuss my relationship with Billy with his mistress, don’t you?"

"He's my-we're married-"

"Billy wasn't free to make that kind of commitment to anyone," Homelander explains slowly. And really, this isn't a complicated concept, even a slut like Becca Saunders should be able to get it. "He was already committed to me."

"You were in a relation-"

"Are, we _are_ in a relationship," Homelander corrects, hands fisting into the chair.

"Are," Becca corrects herself, but Homelander's not an idiot. He can tell that she's just humoring him. Doesn't matter, he'll put her in her place soon enough. Once she breaks Billy's heart, he'll break every single bone in her body and then leave her to suffocate to death. That's not actually a tactic he'd ever used before. Should be interesting. "If you are in a relationship, then you must care about Billy, don’t you?"

What kind of stupid question was that?

"I care about Billy more then your tiny little human mind can ever understand."

Becca swallows, "So…so you must want him to be happy. And he is. He's really, really happy with me."

"He's not happy with you, he just thinks he is," Homelander snarls. "He was happy when he was with _me_. You have no idea how happy he was, you can never understand how happy I made him, and how happy I'll make him when he's back with me. And he'll be safer. So, do as I say and I'll let you live. Don't, and you'll end up dying a really, really painful death."

There's no reason for Becca to know that she's going to die no matter what she does. People work better when they have motivation. Wanting to live is a pretty good one. He motions to the door.

"Now get the fuck out of here."

She gets the fuck out.

Homelander laughs, incredibly pleased with himself, and takes out his phone, to check where Billy is. He's going to have to fly by there when Becca confronts Billy, no way is he missing that scene.

*

Becca is sitting in the kitchen table when Billy walks into the apartment. He grins at her, walking over to give her a kiss. But Becca flinches away from him. Homelander grins. That's already a good start.

"Becca?" Billy sounds puzzled, and sits down besides her. "You all right?"

"I…" Becca looks at something in Billy's hands, Homelander adjusts his X-ray vision to see that Billy is holding a plane ticket. Shit. "Are-are you flying?"

"To London, yeah," Billy replies. "I need to leave in a few minutes…"

Becca visibly deflates, "Oh."

"What's wrong?"

Becca shakes her head, and Homelander grits his teeth.

"Becca, you gotta talk to me," Billy tries again, but Becca just stands up, abruptly.

"We'll…we'll talk when you get back," Becca says quietly. "This isn't the kind of conversation we can have…on one leg."

"Something happened," Billy says sharply, and stands up. "Please tell me what-"

"Later," Becca says, then goes to hide in the bedroom.

Billy keeps on trying to talk to her for a few minutes, but eventually he's forced to leave so he doesn’t miss his flight. Homelander immediately flies over to the apartment and glides his way into the bedroom.

Becca starts to scream, but Homelander clamps his hand on her mouth.

"Don’t think that will work," He warns her. "When Billy gets back from London, you're doing what I told you."

Becca's eyes widen, and she nods. He fucks her in the ass, just to make sure she gets the message. And then he flies back to his office, taking out his phone.

Fuck. Well, it seems like the confrontation will have to wait a few days. Homelander walks over to open the window. The office still smells like sex.

Then he slumps back down on the chair and settles down to watch Billy board the plane, satisfied when he sees that Billy is seated next to an elderly woman and not the good-looking young man who'd walked into the plane in front of him.

*

Billy gets back to New York four days later. Homelander is in a meeting with the Seven when he sneaks a look at his phone and sees that Billy is in a cab heading home, clearly back from the airport. Homelander curses sharply and stands up.

"Uh…Homelander?" Translucent looks up at him.

"We'll continue this later," Homelander says, and flies out of the window. He settles on the roof above Billy's place, and looks down into the apartment, getting there just in time to see Billy arrive. He watches Billy tug his suitcase up the stairs and enter the apartment, throwing it on the sofa.

"Oi, Becca, you here?"

Homelander looks around the apartment quickly, but Becca's not there. Oh well, she must still be at work. Homelander can wait for her to return. He settles down more comfortably on the roof and watches Billy sigh and slump down on the sofa, greeting Terror and getting his phone out.

"Hello, little mate," Billy coos at the dog, "Mummy ain't home yet?"

Terror licks his hand in response. 

"I'll just give her a bell, see where she is," Billy mumbles and places his phone on his ear. A moment later, a cheerful ringtone erupts from the bedroom. Billy frowns and rushes there, finding a phone that must belong to Becca laying on the bed. Billy picks the phone up and turns the ringing off. He stares at it for a few moments, worry creeping into his face.

"That ain't like her," Billy mumbles, and then quickly starts looking around the room. He flips the mattress and overturns Becca's clothes, looks through the books and work papers laying on her desk. Homelander frowns, unsure of what Billy's up to. Does he think something happened to his bitch, just because she's left her phone at home?

Homelander grits his teeth. How worried was he for_ her_?

Eventually Billy swears and abandons his meticulous search in favor of tying a leash to the dog and marching out of the apartment with him. Curious to see what his Billy is up to, Homelander follows him, jumping from one building to the other, to the nearest police station, where he announces to the first officer he sees that his wife, Rebecca Butcher, has gone missing.

Homelander is not amused, that was not their deal. For her to go and disappear, leaving Billy to pine after her. Though, on second thought, it might work for his benefit. If Becca left Billy…well, how could you ask for a better heartbreak? He'll be in pieces, and Homelander will put him back together, gently and carefully, just the way he was before. But dependent on him this time, needing him, so he holds on to him in his sleep like he used to. Tightly and without any intention of letting go.

While Homelander is thinking, the officer is asking Billy when the last time he heard from his wife was. When he hears it was fifteen hours earlier, the officer freezes in the middle of writing and he looks up.

"Um, we can't declare someone missing for twenty-four hours," The man says. "She could be out with friends-"

"Not without her phone, mate."

"Well, maybe she just-"

"She goes nowhere without her phone, understand?" Billy's fingers are tapping on his hip, nervous and apprehensive.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do for twent-"

"Shut it," Billy makes a shushing movement with his hand, and the man immediately shut up. Homelander grins at Billy's commanding presence. "Listen, mate, I'm from the CIA, yeah?"

"Oh," The office mumbles.

"Yeah, so I know a bit better than you, I think."

They end up opening a missing case file for Becca.

They don't find her.

*

Homelander watches as Billy slowly falls apart. At the beginning, he's all energy, moving from one place to another, calling all of Becca's friends, travelling from one location to the next, fishing out seemingly every single person that Becca had ever met, and interrogating them.

It takes nearly a month for that fire to cool down. During that month, Billy barely sleeps, barely eats, grows haggard. He gets circles under his eyes, and they get deeper and deeper every day. He gets irritated as well, refuses to get back to work, refuses to stop, refuses to listen to anyone. He pushes his friends away, ignoring their requests that he slow down.

When he finally does fall asleep, unable to keep going, Billy jerks awake after only a few minutes, like his mind cannot allow his body to rest even for a few hours. Homelander starts to worry that Billy will end up seriously damaging himself, so he starts waiting for that magical moment when Billy falls asleep, and then swoops down to inject him with a sleeping drug. He places Billy on his lap and watches him sleep for hours. He only leaves when Billy starts to stir and wake. And then he gently puts Billy down and covers him up, kisses a cheek that is starting to get stubble, and flies away.

When the first month of Becca's disappearance comes to a close, Homelander can see Billy starting to give up. The police have stopped looking, as well, and when he heard that, Billy attacks the detective in charge of Becca's case. Beats him until the man's coughing out blood and has three broken ribs. Homelander masturbates to _that_ image for weeks.

But things start to go down hill fast after that. Billy stops moving around so much, spending most of his time lying around in his apartment, looking at picture albums of Becca. His boss suspends him from the CIA.

"Just until you're back on your feet," She tells him when she comes to visit him in his apartment. "Your job will wait for you, when you're ready."

Billy barely reacts, just shrugs and chugs down the beer he's holding, and rubs Terror behind the eyes.

"Yeah, all right."

Billy orders in food instead of cooking, and leaves the house exactly three times a day, to take Terror out on his walks. And then, one day, he lays in bed from dawn to dusk, ignoring Terror when he tries to get his attention. The next morning, Billy stumbles out of bed, takes a shower, even shaves, and takes Terror to a dog shelter.

"I can't take care of him no more," Billy mumbles to the worker there, not looking at her. "Find him a good home, yeah?"

Homelander waits until the night, then breaks into the shelter and takes Terror. He brings him to the penthouse next to Billy's, and commissions a Vought worker to take him out three times a day. It's nice having him there, Homelander can imagine Billy sitting in the various sofas and chairs, pampering the animal. Terror acclimates to his new home pretty quickly.

Billy starts spending more and more days in his bed. He never cries, never shows any emotion. Just lays there, looking up at the ceiling, inadvertently looking right up at Homelander, and Homelander shivers at the empty look in his eyes.

He hates it, hates it so much. Hates seeing Billy so broken and pained and knowing that he could fix it easily, make Billy moan and scream out in pleasure and forget about his lost bitch. But he can't, he needs to wait. Let Billy fall apart completely so that when he does come to get him, Billy will have experienced a suffering he'd never, ever want to feel again. And he'd never try to leave again.

So he waits. Suffering alongside Billy, and just when he thinks that Billy is as broken as he can possibly get, he makes a mistake.

An unforgivable mistake.

*

Five hours. That's how long it takes for him to lose his Billy. He's filming for their newest movie, one mostly about his and Maeve's romance. It's a ridiculously annoying day, where he has to kiss Maeve again and again and walk around while holding hands. Even when they're not filming, there's always someone watching him, whispering excitedly about being in his presence, and there's no time to look at his phone.

By the time they're finally finished, Homelander is _this close_ to lasering the camera crew following him around.

"Ok, we're done," The director calls out. "Thank you, Home-"

Homelander takes off.

He flies to the closest tall building he can find and perches there, taking out his phone. And what he sees is the inside of a trashcan.

Billy has thrown his necklace into the garbage.

It takes him around half a minute to get to Billy's apartment building. He punches the roof, falling through the four stories down to Billy's apartment. He's not really paying attention, but he's pretty sure he kills a few people on the way. Definitely injured some, and ruined a few apartments. When he reaches Billy's apartment, sending gravel and ashes tumbling into the apartment. He's ruined it, good. He's sick of these games.

He's taking Billy home.

"Billy!" Homelander screams, cleaning his supersuit. "Where the fuck are you?"

No response. Homelander looks through the apartment. Billy isn't here. He can hear screams from above, and knows it won't be long before cops show up. He needs to be out of here before they do.

Homelander walks over to the kitchen and shoves the garbage on the floor. And there it is, laying besides frozen dinner wrappers and bills. Homelander picks the necklace up, hands shaking, and shoots through the ceiling again, sending some more people to their deaths.

*

Homelander is angry. Fucking furious. He doesn’t think he's ever been this angry in his life. How dare he? How dare Billy cut him off like this, after everything? How dare he throw Homelander into the garbage like he was some piece of trash and not a god, a god who graced him, a lowly human, with his affections?

He's scared. He's also so, so scared. Billy hasn't left his apartment in a week, and suddenly he's gone? Anything could have happened to him. Someone could have come in and taken him away. What if Billy's done something to himself? Pacing back and forth in his office, Homelander feels like he's about to throw up. This is his fault. Whatever happens to Billy now is on him. He shouldn't have let him stay in that fucking apartment, all alone and suffering. He shouldn't have left Billy alone for a second. It's his job to protect his Billy, and he failed.

Failed spectacularly.

Homelander rubs his face. He's spent the last three hours flying back and forth, trying to find Billy, with no success. Where the fuck is the man? God,_ where is he_?

Homelander screams, grabbing his desk and throwing it out the window, smashing it and sending glass shards down the many stories to the ground. He hears the satisfying screaming of the people down there, the confused but short-lived chaos that ensues. It distracts him for only a moment. And then he's back to sheering, burning fury.

The books go next, torn into thousands of tiny little shards, the chair is crushed into pieces, the pictures on the wall are send through the window as well.

It only takes a few moments until Homelander can hear feet rushing towards his office room. It's Madelyn. Homelander rolls his eyes and shoves the door open hard enough to send it flying backwards, just missing her.

"What-" Madelyn frowns and looks at him. "What are you doing?"

"What do you want?" Homelander responses. He wants her to fucking leave. He's busy.

Madelyn shakes her head, and says, "We need you."

"It can wait-"

"There's someone on the phone, we can't track. He says he has a bomb and will only give his demands to you. To Homelander," Madelyn says hurriedly. 

Homelander rolls his eyes. Is it just him or are these mudpeople completely incapable of surviving without him for one fucking day? He rubs his face and follows Madelyn out of the office, "How can you not track him?"

"He seems to know CIA tactics," Madelyn says. And Homelander freezes. Literally stops in his tracks, unable to move.

"Say that again," Homelander demands. His voice cracks slightly as he does so.

Madelyn stops and turns to him, eyes narrowing, "We think he's using CIA tactics. We can't track-"

"Does…" Homelander swallows. "Does he have a cockney accent?"

"Homelander," Madelyn says carefully. "What-"

"Does. He. Have. A cockney accent, Madelyn?"

"Yes," Madelyn replies quickly. "Yeah. He does."

Fucking hell. What the fuck is Billy up to?

"Let's go," Homelander grabs Madelyn and shoves her ahead of him. His heart is pounding, and he doesn't let go of her arm until they get to the control room. There are around fifty IT people there, all working with fever on their computers, trying to track Billy. But Homelander knows that they wouldn't be able to. Billy may not be particularly talented when it comes to technology, but he has a breathtaking ability to find people who are and get them to do whatever he wants. 

There's a white landline in the middle of the control room, sitting all alone on a glass table. Homelander walks straight over to the phone and picks it up. This is not good, he can't do anything to stop every single person in this room from hearing everything that will go on between Billy and him. Homelander gives the workers a reassuring smile and picks the phone up.

"Hello?" He says calmly. "This is-"

"Homelander."

He wants to close his eyes, he wants to cry. What happened to Billy in those five hours he hadn't paid attention to him? His voice sounds so cold, suddenly. He sounds dead.

"Billy," Homelander breathes out, ignoring the confused looks of confusion the IT people are sending him, ignoring the calculating look that Madelyn is sporting. "Billy, what-"

"Did you rape my wife, Homelander?"

Homelander shoves the phone away, and snaps, "Get out."

Everyone flinches, expect for Madelyn. She clears her throat and says, "Out. Everyone."

"But-"

"Out!"

It takes around ten seconds for the room to clear. Madelyn stays. Homelander glares at her, and she nods and walks out as well. But Homelander isn't an idiot. He knows he's being watched and probably recorded.

"Billy," Homelander places the phone on his ear, as close as he can get, as if he will somehow be closer to Billy himself if he does so. "Billy, where are y-"

"Did you rape my wife, Homelander?" He can't hear anything from Billy's side of the conversation, other then his voice. He can't be in the street or crowded area. If Homelander has to guess, he would say that Billy is in a closed space.

Homelander rubs his face, taking a deep breath, "There's no bomb, is there?"

"There's a bloody bomb," Still, his voice was still dead. "Just a really small one."

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Billy, don't do anything to yourself," Homelander warns.

"Did you rape my wife?" Billy repeats for a third time. "Tell me or I blow my bloody head off."

He'll do it, Homelander knows. Billy doesn't sound like he particularly cares about life right now. God, Homelander wants him back. He'll put him in a padded cell for a bit, just to be safe. Or maybe just lay with him on the bed and hold him down.

"And don't even try bloody lying," Billy says, and then adds, softly, "I already know."

"Yes," Homelander replies. "Yes, I raped your wife."

He can hear Billy's breathing get shallow and fast, and Billy croaks out, "_Why_?"

Homelander grits his teeth, "I was just trying to keep you safe, Billy."

"Keep me _safe_?" Billy lets out a hysterical laughter. "What bloody from?"

"As long as you're not with me, you can't be safe," Homelander tries to explain. "The world is a dangerous place, but I'm strong enough to protect you."

"I don't- I don’t fuckin' want your protection!" Billy screams, suddenly losing all control. Homelander can hear him wheezing slightly.

"You don't need to want it, but you'll always have it," Homelander tries to reassure his Billy. "I love you."

"Fuck- fuck you," Billy growls, and Homelander can hear the tears that must be falling down his cheeks. This was a bad, this was very bad. Billy was getting hysterical; he was in danger.

"Billy, tell me where you are," Homelander demands.

He gets no response. 

"Billy," Homelander lets a bit of warning enter his tone. "Tell me where you are so I can come get you."

"No, I ain't gonna do that," Billy snorts.

"Listen to me," Homelander's eyes go red. "I don't have time for this bullshit. _Tell me where you are_."

"The past few years," Billy says idly. "I've had odd dreams, that made me think I've lost the plot. That you were there, in me bed. Were those dreams, Homelander?"

Homelander closes his eyes briefly, "I missed you."

"You _cunt_," Billy sneers. "You bloody cunt."

"Billy-"

"You made me lose me wife," Billy says. "I should have told her, what you'd done. She won't have met you all on her bloody lonesome."

"There? You see?" Homelander waves his hands wildly. "It's partially on you. So there's no reason to be so upset. Now, will you_ please_ just tell me where you are?"

"Thank you," Billy takes a deep breath. "I don't think I love you anymore."

"Don't say that," Homelander snaps. "I get that you're angry, but don't you fucking lie to me."

"Goodbye, Homelander," There's an air of finality to Billy's voice. Oh, no, no, no.

"Billy, please, please don't-"

"By the way, there was no fuckin' bomb, you fuckin' wanker."

The phone line goes dead.

And Homelander explodes.

*

Madelyn finds him two weeks later, in his penthouse. He's spent those fourteen days systematically killing every single IT person who was in the room when he talked to Billy, making the deaths look like suicides and random murders. Vought will make sure the police buy it.

And he's spent the days searching for his Billy. He'd sent Vought people to each and every one of Billy's friends, and to Becca Saunders's sister, but none of them knew where Billy is. They've all told the same story: Billy told them he was going to be gone for an indefinite amount of time, because of his job. He didn't give them any more information, and used to Billy's erratic profession, none of his friends had asked. He'd also flown around, just scanning the streets and buildings, looking for Billy. But no matter what he did, he couldn't find him.

So he'd gone back to the penthouse, to see Terror, his last connection to Billy. And that's how Madelyn finds him, sitting on his sofa, scratching Terror behind the ears and watching the TV. He doesn’t even turn it off when he lets Madelyn come in. There's no point in hiding it anymore, she knows about Billy now.

On the TV is playing one of the videos from the cameras Homelander had in Billy's apartment, back when they first met. The current video, one of Homelander's favorites, shows Homelander blowing Billy on the sofa. Billy is naked, and his head is thrown backwards, hands fisting into Homelander's hair, tugging it roughly.

Madelyn's eyes widen when she walks into the living room, and she clears her throat, turning to Homelander. Homelander waves her into a seat, eyes never leaving the TV. Billy's about to come, after which he will give Homelander a handjob. He doesn’t want to miss it.

"Who is he?" Madelyn asks quietly.

"His name is Billy," Homelander replies. "Billy Butcher."

"Butcher…" Madelyn sounds like she's trying to remember something, and then he swallows. "Don't we have a Butcher working in-"

"Becca," Homelander snaps, and clearly something in his voice warns Madelyn off, since she stiffens at the name, and doesn't mention her again.

"Well," Madelyn clears her throat. "Should we help you find him?"

Homelander glances at her, "I don't want the media to know about him. He'll throw another temper tantrum if people start following him around with their cameras out."

And he'll just go deeper into hiding if they do. Besides, and most importantly, Billy is Homelander's one weakness, and he's not putting a target sign on him by announcing that to the world.

"Right," Madelyn nods. "But I'll look. Carefully, ok?"

"Carefully," Homelander mumbles. "You can try."

*

She doesn't find him. Homelander is not surprised. He didn't really expect her too. His Billy is far too intelligent and willy to be caught by Vought workers. No. He will be caught by Homelander himself, or not at all.

But he can't find him. He combs through New York, but either Billy isn't in the city, or he has some outside help. No one man can hide from Homelander indefinitely. Not even a man like Billy. But Billy doesn’t have any help, he's all alone in the world. His friends and co-workers don't know where he is, Homelander's made sure of that.

He expands his search after two months, goes over all of the state. That takes him another four months, and he can't be sure that Billy really isn't anywhere in New York state, it's far too big for him to search properly, not when you consider the possibility that Billy is on the move, and Homelander is missing him.

At the end of the first year of Billy's disappearance, Homelander tells Madelyn to stop looking for Billy. Not that she's put a lot of energy into it after two or three months of searching. But he wants to make absolutely sure that he's the one that finds Billy in the end. He's starting to be a bit angry with the man. They're going to have to have a _very_ long conversation about what the appropriate length for a temper tantrum is. And knowing Billy, that conversation is bound to get ugly.

Not that it matters. None of it matters as long as he can't _find_ the fucker.

When the second year of Billy's disappearance comes to a close, Homelander is watching a video of Billy sleeping when a thought occurs to him that makes him sit up and curse at his own stupidity.

What if Billy has gone back to London? That would explain why he can't find him,, and why there hasn't been any activity on the man's credit cards. Officially, Billy hasn't left the country, but Homelander knows the man is perfectly capable of sneaking his way out of the country without using his passport.

"Shit," Homelander groans, scratching Terror behind the ear. "Fuck. Fuck."

He can't_ go_ to London. They're not allowed to operate outside of American soil. He can travel to London as part of some diplomatic mission, but then he'll be constantly watched. He needs the kind of carte blanche he has when operating in America, so he can search the city as thoroughly as he had New York.

The next day he goes to Madelyn, and tells her, "We should operate in Iraq and Afghanistan."

He can't very well tell her 'we need to operate in London so I can find my errant lover and probably spank him'. And being part of the military will give him the excuse to go to London. He can say he suspects there's a terrorist cell located there, and tada- free access to the city.

Madelyn freezes with her pen in the air, then clears he throat and looks up at him with her intelligent eyes, "You want to be part of the military."

"Come on, Madelyn," Homelander cries out. "Think about all the soldiers, all those American heroes dying for us, while we sit here, safe and protected because of their sacrifice. I could help minimize that damage. I have a moral duty to do so."

"That's very good," Madelyn clicks her tongue. "Do that, exactly that, for the cameras."

Homelander smirks, "You've already thought about it."

Madelyn shrugs, "I don't think the country is ready for it yet. But we'll build them up to it. And yes, I have thought about it. I wasn't going to involve you, you already have so much on your plate…"

"In this, involve me."

*

He knows this will take time. It's a very delicate situation, and rushing it will make the Government incredibly apprehensive. In fact, for the first few years no one outside of Homelander and Madelyn and her closest team (and Mr. Edger, of course) know what they're up to. Homelander is patient. He's waited for so many years now, a few more won't make any difference. In fact, it will just make their reunion sweeter.

Homelander starts to think, around four years in, that it's very possible that Billy does want to return, but isn’t sure of his welcome. After all, he _had_ run out on Homelander (twice, actually). It would be very much like Billy to decide that he isn’t going to return to Homelander if he's not a hundred percent sure Homelander is waiting for him. So he stages a breakup with Queen Maeve (it's very civil, to avoid a scandal). Nothing happens, but it was worth a try.

Man, does Billy have a long temper. It would be amusing, if it wasn't tearing Homelander's life apart. Homelander doesn’t want Billy to change. Just maybe…temper out a bit? For fuck's sake, a four-year temper tantrum is really pushing it.

In the meantime, he has Madelyn. They start fucking around the fifth year, and it's good. It distracts him from Billy, just a bit. Madelyn is like him, in a few ways. They're both intelligent, they both tell him what they think, they're both beautiful and know how to use their bodies. They both order him around in bed.

He starts to really, really like the idea of being able to work outside of America, even independent of Billy. Likes the idea that he'll be worshiped everywhere on earth, not just in America. And it makes sense, he doesn’t understand why it didn't occur to him before. He's a fucking god. Gods aren't controlled by fucking borders.

It's on the anniversary of the eighth year that Homelander decides he needs to get things moving a bit faster.

He returns to the penthouse late that night, having flown back all the way from New Mexico to attend the funeral of some war general or another. It's the kind of public appearance that Homelander really hates doing. He puts on a sad voice and cries some tears, and then the mourners nearly fall over themselves to thank him for coming, and oh how much it would mean to blah blah, thank you so much, would you bless him, please?

Those goddamn fucking cocksuckers.

So he's already in a slightly foul mood when he flies through the open balcony doors into the penthouse. His mood distracts him for a few seconds, and then he realizes that something is missing.

He can't hear Terror.

"Terror?" It's pointless, there's no breathing from anywhere in the penthouse, but Homelander stupidly calls the dog's name anyway. As if he could bring him back with the sound of his voice. He flies into one of the rooms that go out of the master-bedroom, the one he's converted into a study for Billy. It's also where Terror's bed is, obviously. He_ is _Billy's dog.

Was.

Terror is laying on his bed, limp and dead. He's only twelve. He shouldn't be dead yet.

"You stupid fucking animal," Homelander grabs the dog's leg and raises him in the air, letting him dangle back and forth. "You were supposed to live until Billy came back. You were a gift, you fucking fucker. Your life wasn't yours to take."

Homelander's teeth clench together as he throws Terror into the wall, and he grins slightly as he hears the bones in his body break. He walks up to the dog and picks him back up. The animal looks like a broken doll now, bleeding and mangled. Homelander studies him for a few moments, then walks over to the living room, starts the electric fire, and throws the dog in.

He'll need to get a new dog, and just tell Billy that that dog is Terror. Dogs aren't like Billy; they can be replaced.

Homelander watches the dog's bone sizzle and burst, and then he places one of his Billy DVD's in the TV and turns it on. He hasn't even checked what he's watching. He'll be fine as long as he can see Billy.

Billy is standing in the kitchen, looking down at a pot of chili with a ridiculously serious look on his face. Homelander grins, he remembers that day.

Billy's wearing a pair of boxers and slippers, and nothing else. That's because he'd just woken up. He'd spent nearly four days awake, trying to find a serial child killer, at which point Homelander had had enough and had discreetly handed Billy a good suspect, to get him to stop searching. The actual killer would end up killing another three children, but Billy got his sleep.

He had woken up after nearly twenty-four hours of sleep, at ten in the morning, and bizarrely announced that he was going to make chili.

Homelander takes a deep breath as he watches the Homelander on the screen comes to stand behind Billy and lean his head on the man's shoulder. Homelander remembers what he had said.

"Is it done?" Homelander had said. "Can we eat so I can take you back to bed?"

Billy grins on the screen, and picks up a few bottles of hot spice, "Almost."

He dumps a whole bottle into the pot.

"Wow, buddy, slow down a bit," Homelander grabs Billy's hand and pulls him away from the other bottle before he can pour it all in, as well. "I think that's enough, don't you?"

Billy gives Homelander an unimpressed look and says, "What, the great big Homelander can't handle some spice?"

"I can handle it fine, it's you I'm worried about," Homelander on screen replies, and Homelander sitting on the couch feels his gut clench when he sees his younger self kiss Billy's wrist. He feels ridiculously jealous of himself. "I don’t want your pretty mouth to get all burnt out."

"Yeah, all right," Billy nods. "You can let go of my wrist now, mate."

"Really?" Homelander raises an eyebrow.

"Really."

Homelander isn't sure how he'd ever believed Billy. Looking at the scene again, he can see the mischievous smirk in Billy's eyes. But he hadn't seen it at the time, and the Homelander on screen lets go of Billy's wrist.

And Billy automatically grabs the bottle and starts squirting it into the chili.

"Billy!" Homelander cries out, grabbing Billy's waist and throwing him over his shoulder. Billy keeps trying to pour more of the spice into the chili, so Homelander twirls him around, faster and faster, while Billy laughs. He sounds so carefree, and so happy. Homelander hasn't heard him that happy ever since Billy left him.

On screen, Homelander lowers Billy, so their face to face, Homelander's hands under Billy's ass, hoisting him up, Billy's legs wrapped around Homelander. Homelander- the one watching the screen- rubs his face before slipping out his dick and settling down to watch this next part.

They never actually ate the chili.

It's as he's masturbating to images of himself fucking Billy on the couch that Homelander decides that he can't take it anymore. If he has to live without Billy for much longer, Homelander will go crazy, absolutely lose his shit. He needs to get in the military, not just so he can go to London, but so in the future, Billy can't pull this shit again. Homelander is going to make the whole military his bitch. He's going to make sure that no matter where Billy runs to, he will always be able to get him back.

He's going to make sure that everyone starts treating him like the fucking god he is.

So that's when he starts giving Compound V to terrorists. That should speed things along.


	7. 2019: Part 1

With Translucent missing, Homelander is a bit on edge. He doesn’t like it when people disappear on him, it gives him Billy deva ju. And he's in a bad mood, already. Having been given talking points by Mr. Edger about getting the Seven in the military had really not helped his emotional state. It had been his fucking idea in the first place.

And that fucking race. Who gives a fuck about A-Train's title as fastest man alive? They have much more important things to worry about. A missing team member, their work to get into the military. Still, like Queen Maeve told him he would, he ends up showing up to the race.

Thank fuck for that.

He's clapping and looking happy while A-Train and Shockwave prepare to take off when he feels it. There's someone looking at him, he can sense it deep in his bones. Well, there's a lot of people watching him, but he doesn't notice any of_ them_. He does notice someone, though. It's like a spear hitting him from far away. A powerful force that he couldn't ignore even if he wanted to.

Homelander, feeling pissed from his conversation with Maeve (God, he enjoys riling her up. She doesn’t want to be touched, he can see it in her eyes, but with everyone watching she can do nothing but smile and endure it), takes a moment to turn towards that powerful stare. But then he does, and then he sees him.

Billy. Jesus fucking Christ. Billy. His Billy. Standing there, smirking up at him. Homelander feels his heart clench, and everything stops.

He takes him all in. The beard, the unkempt hair, the fucking _Hawaiian T-shirt_, what the hell is Billy thinking? And he notices, fury bubbling in him, the open scratches on Billy's face, the cold look in his eyes. The bones he can scan underneath his skin, the bones that had been broken more than once during the eight years since Homelander has seen him. He also hasn't been eating particularly healthily, though he's still in very good shape.

And _this_\- this is exactly why Billy shouldn't be let out of Homelander's sight to wonder on his own. Billy can't be fucking trusted to take care of himself, clearly. He's been bruised and broken and abused. Over and over during the last eight years.

Homelander wants to fly down there, and touch him. He wants to touch Billy all over, run his hands down that bearded cheek, caress his throat and scarred up chest, rub his thumb on that large scar on his forehead. Hug him, hold him, and feel his heart beat pound against his own.

He can't. He can't move. For the first time in his life, he's frozen in place. The shock keeps his legs unmoving. After all this time, why now? Why here? Why is he suddenly showing himself to Homelander? What's with that fucking _smirk_? What's happened to his Billy? Homelander is going to find every single person that broke every single one of those bones, that left every single one of those scars, and he's going to tie Billy to a chair and force him to watch as Homelander beats each of these people to death.

And then the race starts, and the powerful burst of wind makes Homelander turn, automatically. For one fucking second. Jesus fucking Christ, you'd think he'd have learned his lesson by now. When he looks back, Billy is gone.

Gone again.

He claps and smiles at A-Train's win, and inside he's on fucking fire. Inside, he's screaming loud enough to make seals in Antarctica flinch in fear. And when it's over and he's freed from the fucking crowds, Homelander flies around the streets of New York, finds a man who looks a bit like his Billy, and beats him to death. Slowly, intimately, while gently hushing him. When he's finished, Homelander sits down and cradles the body in his hands.

But it doesn’t last long, and very quickly Homelander remembers that this body isn't his Billy, and thank fuck for that. Homelander throws the dead man away in disgust.

*

"H-Homelander?"

Homelander closes his eyes briefly, then turns around to see The Deep standing there, shuffling his feet back and forth. He's dragged a metal trunk into the conference room, and Homelander frowns, X-raying it. Or at least trying to. He can't see anything, though. It's made of fucking zinc.

"A porpoise friend of mine found this at the bottom of the ocean," The Deep says, as if that's a fucking normal thing to say. His heart is pounding, and Homelander can smell the sweat pouring from his body.

"A porpoise," Homelander says dryly. "You have a friend who's…a _porpoise_?"

"Um, yes," The Deep clears his throat. "He's."

"Have you opened it yet?" Homelander asks idly.

"Um…yeah, yeah," The Deep mumbles. "I opened it."

Homelander rolls his eyes and stands up, "Move."

The Deep immediately obeys. Homelander leans down and opens the trunk.

"What the fuck-" Homelander growls and pushes away.

"It's Translucent."

"I can fucking see that!" Homelander roars. He slams the trunk close, but while he does, something caches his eyes. Homelander frowns and opens it again. And there it is, written in black spry inside the lid.

_Coming for you_, the words announce.

_You gonna come for me, Homelander?_ He hears Billy whisper in his ear. Can almost feel Billy's fingers tighten on his dick, see the smirk on his face, the satisfaction when Homelander comes, groaning and straining.

Billy…Homelander wants to laugh. Billy, his brilliant, brilliant Billy killed Translucent. And send him his body as a gift. A token of his affection. It's magnificent, it's beautiful.

"What…who do you think-"

"Shut up, Deep," Homelander snaps, not looking away. _Coming for you_. Oh, Billy will, he will very soon. Come for Homelander loud and screaming and panting. He caresses the trunk with his fingers, gentle, tender. Billy's close, now he knows that. Physically close, sure, but emotionally as well. This is the first step of a courtship.

Now he does laugh, loud and pleased. It must sound a bit odd, because The Deep responds by flinching backwards. Homelander looks up, "We need to call Stillwell."

*

After they talk to Madelyn, and after The Deep leaves, Homelander opens the trunk again and trails the letters with his fingers. He can feel Madelyn's eyes on hm, but ignores her for once.

"You know who did this, don’t you."

Homelander rolls his eyes and shuts the box, turning to look at her, "Do I?"

"I think you do," Madelyn says quietly. "I think you know. I can see it in your eyes."

Homelander raises an eyebrow, "Ohhh, in my_ eyes_, huh?"

"Home-"

"It was Billy," Homelander sits down on his chair, looking up at Madelyn.

He can't tell what she's thinking, her face completely blank.

"Who?"

Homelander frowns, no way she doesn’t remember, "Billy_ Butcher_."

Now he can hear her heart pumping. She remembers.

"Billy Butcher," Madelyn nods slowly. "That was eight years ago, Homelander."

"I know," Homelander replies, trying to smile. "I've been counting the days."

Madelyn doesn’t let him see what she thinks about that. She clears her throat and says, "Billy Butcher could be dead by now, could be married and living in the suburbs. What makes you think that, after eight years, he's back to kill supes?"

"Trust me on this," Homelander suggests, rather amused at the mental image of Billy as a suburban house-husband. Unlikely. "My Billy did this."

Madelyn gives him a hard look, but Homelander just raises an eyebrow at her. He stands back up and walks over to the trunk. Madelyn looks away and inhales sharply while Homelander opens the lid and goes back to looking at the words.

"But how do you know?"

"Because I know Billy," Homelander snaps, losing some of his patience. Is she purposely trying to ruin his good mood? "And I know what a declaration of fucking war would look like if he sent it."

*

At the Believe Expo, before his speech and before that fucking baptism commitment he's forced to keep by Madelyn, Homelander goes to his private tent and spreads out on a lounger. Bored, he lets his hearing expand and stretch, taking in everything in the radius of the Expo.

He hears the mudpeople talk about Jesus and God and Homelander, which all go together. He moves from one person to the other, until he hears it.

"…a world heavy weight cunt."

Homelander gasps, unable to stop himself. Fuck, that fucking _voice_. Billy, Billy, Billy. Homelander feels tears gather in his eyes. He's here, he came back. When he saw Billy at the race, Homelander had been half-suspicious that he'd imagined him. It's happened before, when he was particularly frustrated or upset. He'd pretend that Billy popped up here and there. But this time it's real. Which means it was all real. The race, the trunk. Billy killed Translucent. That magnificent creature. And Homelander doesn’t mean Translucent.

Homelander bursts out laughing. Billy is at the Expo, talking against God. At the fucking _Believe Expo_. And oh, shit, what if Billy sees those anti-gay signs? It's Ezekiel's thing, but Homelander never publicly denounced him. That was probably a mistake.

He sees the marketing girl (Ashlyn, or something) stare at him with wide eyes, and he tries to compose himself, smiling at her reassuringly. From the way she swallows and makes a hasty retreat for the entrance, he suspects he isn't entirely successful.

Over the years, Homelander has imagined their reunion time after time. But he never imagined that it would come at such a public space, in the middle of Billy's…quest to kill all supes? Or something? He's not entirely sure what it is Billy is after.

Mostly, Homelander imagined Billy coming to the Vought Tower and handing himself on a silver platter to Homelander. He imagined Billy crying, terrified, alone and in need or reassurance. In his mind, a Billy who needed protection knew to go to Homelander for it. He imagined Billy hurt and bleeding, and himself caring for him, helping him heal.

He really should have imagined something more like this. Billy was never one for being predictable, for doing what Homelander expected him to do.

He misses the rest of Billy's conversation with…whoever the fuck he's talking to. He registers their voices (both male, one black, one young), gritting his teeth when he hears them talking to his Billy, but mostly he takes in the cadence of Billy's voice, the musical quality of his accent. He really should be paying attention to the conversation; these are the people who killed Translucent. But he can't. He can't pay attention. Every time he tries, his mind blanks out again, just to take in Billy's voice, without the distraction of words.

And then he hears Billy walking, and Homelander realizes that he's moving straight towards Homelander's tent. He jumps up, rushing to a crack in the tent flaps, and peers out.

When he sees Billy walk by, Homelander hears his voice whisper his name, and can hear the fucking tightens in his throat. Billy stops, freezes, and moves slightly close to Homelander. He's standing with the back to the tent, shoulders tense and body ready to sprint away.

"Homelander," Billy says. No, that's wrong. Homelander wants to hear him say his _name_.

"John," Homelander corrects. "Call me John, Billy, please."

"Fuck you," Is Billy's response.

Homelander smiles, "Oh, Billy. I've missed you. So much. Will you come closer?"

"You can't do nothing right now," Billy says. Homelander bites his lip, and reaches out, to touch the back of Billy's neck. "Can't very well let these bloody cocksuckers see you fist fighting a man, can you?"

"No, I can't have that," Homelander agrees, and his fingers hit the air as Billy, as if able to sense Homelander's approach, moves slightly away, out of his reach. "But I'm not planning on fighting you, buddy. I'm planning on taking you home."

"Yeah, that ain't happening," Billy snorts. Homelander can see a scar on the back of his neck, that he hadn't noticed before. It's small and round, like a cigarette burn. He swallows.

"What happened there?" He asks. "That scar on your neck."

"Bar fight. Cunt was smoking into me face. Used it as a rather effective weapon."

"_Who was it_?" Homelander tries to keep control of his anger, or he'll end up doing something he'll regret.

"The fuck you want to know that for?"

"So I can send him a thank you note," Homelander says sarcastically. "What do you think? So I can kill him!"

"It was a her, you sexist fuck. And she ain't alive no more."

"Shame," But unsurprising. "Now will you please just come in the tent?"

Billy doesn’t even respond to that.

"Eight years, Billy," Homelander says quietly. "Eight fucking years. You owe me a big fucking apology."

Billy turns to look at him, taking off his sunglasses. The two of them stare at each other, and when Billy looks at Homelander like that, it makes it all go away. The eight years of separation, the fact that Billy abandoned him to face the world alone. It all goes away. All that remains is Billy's eyes burrowing into him.

There's so much hatred in Billy's eyes, it makes Homelander almost physically flinch away. He's never seen that much hatred and fury in those familiar eyes before. It's incredibly disturbing, the way Billy's eyes manage to look both alive and on fire and dead, as if other then anger and loathing, there's nothing there. Except for one thing, deep, deep down there. It takes a while, but Homelander finally sees it. Longing.

He feels like he's about to cry again.

"I don't owe you shite," Billy sneers, and then takes one step closer. Homelander grins and grabs Billy's wrist. The feel of Billy's skin under his strong fingers, his pulse pounding, it all makes Homelander so hard he thinks he's going to come into his fucking suit. Billy's wrist has always fit so perfectly in Homelander's hand. They used to sit like that for hours, Billy watching the television with his wrist in Homelander's hold, his body curled up against Homelander's.

Billy raises an eyebrow, looking nonchalant. And his pulse is steady, as well. No fear. Never any fucking fear from his darling Billy.

"You better let me go," Billy warns. "Or I start screamin'."

"I know," Homelander closes his eyes. "Just give me a moment, Billy, please? It's been eight years."

"And if I had it my way, it'd be another eight fuckin' hundred," Billy replies.

"Why'd you kill Translucent?" Homelander asks mildly, rubbing Billy's wrist with his gloved hand. Billy is the only person in the world he's ever fucked with his gloves off.

"Who the fuck says that was me?"

"Billy, Billy," Homelander clicks his tongue. "We're never going to get anywhere if you lie to me."

Billy doesn’t respond.

"I mean, who else could it be? _Coming for you_-"

"That ain't how it was meant," Billy says dryly. "And you got a fuckin' dirty mind is that's what pops to it."

"When my lover sends me a trunk full of the bloody remains of one of my coworkers-"

"I ain't your bleeding lover-"

"So why did you do it?" Homelander asks again. "Or was it just to get my attention? Because you really didn't need to. You could have just come to Vought's tower."

"I didn't do it cause of that, wanker," Billy sneers. "I did it cause I'm gonna dust every single one of you fuckin' supes. You very much included."

"Oh, yeah, Billy, talk dirty to me," Homelander grins.

"Let go, now," Billy responds, "I need to take care of me wife's fuckin' grave."

Homelander lets Billy walks away, no longer afraid that he won't see him again. If Billy wants to kill him, that means he'll be sticking around. 

He feels slightly better when, later, he partially drowns the man who's voice he heard talking to Billy.

The conversation with Billy makes him energized and excited, and he decides that fuck it- he's not going to read out the speech Madelyn handed him. They want him to be perfect, to be a shining star, and he can't fucking take it anymore. He wants to be who he was with Billy, imperfect and still loved.

*

"You fucking idiot."

A-Train screams and jumps in the air, turning wildly around to see Homelander leaning on the wall behind the door to his suite in Vought Tower. He screams like a little girl, and it's almost amusing.

"What," Homelander asks very slowly, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself. "Were you thinking?"

"I didn't- I don't- what are you talking about?" Sweat trickling down, heartbeat racing. He's not on Compound V right now, just frightened. And mourning.

"Popclaw, you stupid fuck," Homelander pushes away from the wall, and A-Train takes a step backwards. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I…um, I heard that she overdosed?"

"Yes, on the drugs you prompted into her," Homelander growls.

He can see A-Train swallowing, and the man shakes his head, "I-I didn't do-"

"If people find out about this-"

"No one is going to find out!" A-Train cries out. "There are no prints-"

"I found out," Homelander says dryly. It wasn't that difficult. He knew about A-Train and Popclaw's relationship, obviously, so when he heard about her death, he'd gone to see the body. And what he found was that the syringes had been pushed with far too much force into her body to be the work of a drugged up girl who didn't know how much she was putting in. "Other can too."

"Oh, shit, shit, fuck, fuck-"

"Calm the fuck down," Homelander speaks loudly enough to be heard over the litany of curses. "And listen to me."

A-Train stops talking immediately, and turns to look at Homelander, eyes wide.

"Oh, God," He whispers. "I'm sorry, Homelander, I didn’t mean-"

"Hey, hey," Homelander plasters on a huge smile and goes to pat A-Train on the back. The man stiffens, but smartly doesn’t move. "I told you before, buddy, we're family, right? We take care of each other."

A-Train nods, trying to smile back.

"Good," Homelander clears his throat. "You're a fucking idiot, but if you're accused of a fucking murder it will make all of us look bad. If you ever uses V again, or do anything this _stupid_ again, I will propel you into open space. Nowhere to run there. Clear?"

"Clear," A-Train whimpers as Homelander clutches his neck hard enough to bruise.

"Now, we don't have a lot of time. The police are going to search Popclaw's house every moment now. You're very fast, you're going to run to her place, destroy any evidence of V or your relationship. And you're going to get a rope, tie it into a nose, and hide it under her bed."

"What? You- you want people to think she committed suicide?"

"Yes, obviously," Homelander rolls his eyes. "No one is going to believe that she accidently, while high, pushed two syringes simultaneously so hard into her fucking body. We need people to believe that she did that on purpose. Got it?"

"Got it," A-Train tries to leave the room, but Homelander grabs his shirt and shoves him back.

"Just out of curiosity, why did you kill her?"

A-Train swallows and looks down at his feet.

"A-Train…" Homelander warns.

Shuffling his feet, A-Train looks up and says quietly, "She…she told people about Compound V."

Just a few days ago, that information would have made Homelander incredibly worried. He'd brought down the mayor's plane because the man knew about Compound V, after all. But after seeing Billy at the Believe Expo the day before, all he feels is excitement. It has to be Billy, right?

"Who?"

"She…said she didn't have a choice, that they blackmailed her. But she sill betrayed me. I didn’t know they had a video of her killing a man-"

"I don't give a shit, A-Train," Homelander informs him, and gives the speedster a small shake. "Tell me what she told you about the blackmailers."

"I- she said one was British, with dark hair and that he was a smug asshole. And-"

"Get out," Homelander shoves A-Train towards the door. "Go do what I asked you to. Oh, and A-Train?"

A-Train freezes and turns, "Yes?"

"Next time something like this happens, you come straight to me. You don’t take care of things yourself."

He hears the speedster's heart race, and grins.

"Ah, I see," Homelander shakes his head. "That’s why you did it, isn't it? So that _I_ wouldn't get to her. Do you think that was a mercy killing, hmm?"

A-Train doesn’t reply, and Homelander rolls his eyes, "Get the fuck out of here."

This time he actually does let A-Train leave the room. Homelander sighs deeply and walks out, going down the hall to his personal suite, which is around the size of all the other suites put together. This isn't his favorite place, but he needs to stay in Vought Tower now, with things going into overdrive.

So. Billy knows about Compound V now. Or at least knows about the use A-Train and pathetic fucks like him find for it. But Billy isn't an idiot, and if he knows that, then he'll also find out about how the superheroes were created. If he hasn't figured it out yet. He'll know that Homelander wasn't born a god, he was made into one.

Not that Billy ever actually believed he was special, chosen. It's both one of the most endearing and one of the most annoying things about Billy. But will he consider Homelander a freak when he finds out? Will he even care? Would he just use it as new material in his arsenal for making fun of Homelander, like how he never stopped talking about that time he had to teach Homelander how to make toast?

Shoving the uncomfortably vulnerable thoughts away, Homelander lays down to masturbate to the lid of the trunk instead.

*

"You did _what_?" Homelander roars.

He can't believe it. Can't fucking believe it. Finally, a goddamn fucking supe-terrorist appears, he finally has pictures of Billy's team and knows who his partners are. He's finally feeling like he has things under control.

He was so, so close. He'd been able to fly abroad to fight terrorists, and it was _magnificent_. Usually, when Homelander lets lose, he needs to find excuses for his behavior. They shot first, they refused to come in. But with the terrorists- no one cared. He was allowed to kill each and every one of the fuckers without any consequence. It had put him in a better mood then he'd been in for months.

Then he'd come back to America just to find out that Stillwell has insisted the CIA put Billy and his team on America's Most Wanted List.

How could she?

Madelyn rubs her face, looking up from her desk. She looks exhausted, like that whiny baby has kept her up at night. She really needs to get rid of that thing. She ignores him when it's around, and it makes her tired and annoyed.

"I didn’t have a choice-"

"You had a fucking choice," Homelander growls, quickly calming himself down. "It's really simple. Not telling the CIA about this."

"They already know about them," Madelyn snaps. "Butcher was the one who gave them V! He used to work for them. They know all about him and his team. How do you think it would have looked if I hadn't demanded they'd put them on the wanted list?"

"If they get to Billy first," Homelander says very, very slowly. "And he's put in jail-"

"He won’t be," Madelyn replies. "He won't. I've hired some mercenaries; they'll find him first."

"Oh, they better," Homelander whispers into her ear, honey-sweet. "They fucking better."

*

"What did he see, buddy?" Homelander mumbles, leaning against the table holding the fat, disgusting body of a dead Mesmer. He'd bee found in the fucking bathroom of a train station. Pathetic. People like him made them all look bad. It was a good thing Billy saved them from the embarrassment of having this fat fuck waddling around.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it was Billy that killed him. After all, he'd betrayed Billy and his cronies, and the man's brains had been _bashed in_. That was a Billy move if ever there was one. An explosion of violence that erupts, unrestrained, until it destroys everything in its path. Homelander's man has a serious temper.

Mesmer's jaw had been broken with a fist, so their skins had touched (unless Billy was wearing gloves, but somehow Homelander didn't see that happening). So- what was on Billy's mind? What did Billy think about, that made him so furious? And what did he think of later, while he was beating a man to death?

Homelander knows what he thinks about when imagining watching Billy beating a man to death, and what he would have done in that situation. Well, watched, obviously. Watched as that beautiful rage had pounded the man to death, as it ran its course and left destruction in it's wake.

And then he'd have grabbed Billy, still panting from the exertion, laid him down on the dirty bathroom floor, and spread his legs. Homelander would then slick up his fingers with the blood dripping down from the sink, and used them to open Billy up, slowly and carefully, before fucking him to oblivion. By the time they'd be done, the blood on the floor would have started to dry.

It's a nice thought.

"This has gone too far."

Homelander, jostled away from the pleasant daydream, turns and glares at Madelyn as she walks into the autopsy room, her high heels clicking on the floor. "We've gone to their houses, but there was no one there. We’ll find them, soon enough."

"Their homes?" Homelander thinks about it for a moment. "Give me the address to where Billy was staying. I want to see it."

"The police asked me if we have any information that would be helpful for their investigation of the murder of Mesmer. Do we, Homelander?"

Homelander discreetly rolls his eyes, "Do we, Madelyn?"

Madelyn takes a deep breath and walks over to him. Homelander notes that she doesn’t look at the smashed head attached to the dead body.

"We need to tell the police about this. It was Butcher, it must have been."

"Yeah, it was Billy," Homelander grins. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Madelyn swears, "Beautiful? How is this beautiful- we have to tell the cops."

"No," Homelander replies, mildly.

"No? Why the hell not?" Madelyn runs her fingers through her hair, and Homelander suddenly realizes that she smells of baby powder. How did he not realize that before? It's disgusting. "They're already looking for him-"

"They already know enough about Billy. I'm not giving them anything more. Why should we give them any advantages in finding him?"

He turns to look sternly at Madelyn, but she looks right back.

"This isn't about an ex-lover who's pissed at you," Madelyn says calmly. "This is a danger to everything we've spend years buildings. You're too personally involved; you need to let other people make the decisions on this. It will look very good for us if we hand the police a suspect, and then catch him ourselves. You can still go after him, but-"

"We let the police know that Billy killed Mesmer, and he'll have to spend the rest of his life on the run. No one is going to put Billy away for the V- that would mean there would have to be a trial, and things would come out. Mesmer, though…that would be an easy way to lock him up, and out of sight," Homelander says mildly. "Even if I do find him before the police,_ I'll_ have to keep him locked up and out of sight for the rest of his life. I'd never be able to go public with out relationship."

"Go pu-" Madelyn sounds and looks like she's chocking. "You can't do that. You can't go public with a homosexual relationship. Especially not a homosexual relationship with Billy fu-"

Homelander tilts his head slightly, and says, very calmly, "Think very carefully if you want to finish that sentence."

Madelyn takes a half step back, but then shakes her head and steps forward again.

"I just don't want you to be disappointed, when you get him back and you suddenly discover that you can't be with him. I'm just trying to protect you. You're a symbol for the ultimate American. Do you think organizations like Capes for Christ would support you if you come out as gay? Do you think Republic senators would _ever_ allow you to stay in the military?"

"They'll support me," Homelander says, no doubt in his mind. "I'm a fucking god, Madelyn, these people know it."

Madelyn glares, "You hate the public."

"Yeah, so?" Homelander shrugs. "They still understand-"

"They believe that you were chosen by God and Jesus," Madelyn snaps. "And God and Jesus don't believe in homosexuality, according to these people."

"God and Jesus?" Homelander snorts. "God and Jesus are invisible, they can't be seen. Do God and Jesus save planes from plummeting to the ground or children who are dangling from fucking trees? No. I do. And when the time comes that they need me to protect them, they'll choose me over God and Jesus. Because God and Jesus aren't going to do shit for them when fucking terrorists attack."

Madelyn shakes her head, and Homelander can see a tear in her eyes, "Eight years, Homelander. It's been eight years. Eight years since Butcher disappeared. Can't you let it go?"

He doesn't even bother to respond to that. And Madelyn sighs, shakes her head and walks out of the room.

*

Homelander flies around, back and forth inside his penthouse, thinking.

So, assuming, and this was a fair assumption, that Billy and his…_team_ haven't spent the last eight years preparing for this attack, a pretty obvious question arose.

_What _had they been doing?

Doing what they were now doing? That is, attacking supes? But surely, Homelander would have heard of suck an attack being successful, if a supe had been killed. Not to mention, wouldn't Billy have done what he did with Translucent? Boosted over his success, sent the body parts to Homelander to get his attention?

No, Homelander decided. Translucent must have been their first success. Which means Homelander has to look for failures, times they'd tried to kill one of his kind and couldn't quite do it.

There's something nagging on his mind, a half-forgotten memory that part of his brain screams is important, but he can't quite put his finger on it, so he lets it slide. It will come to him later.

In the meantime, he flies down to his computer and begins searching through the internet and Vought's records for incidents where supers were attacked by unidentified assailants. He disregards anything related to himself or Maeve (they'd never actually talked about it, but she'd seen him walk into the bathroom after Billy on that Christmas party, and she wasn't stupid enough to hide something like this from him if she had ever seen Billy), and everything he knows for sure was a Vought cover up for a supe just killing someone and being bad at hiding the evidence.

That still leaves around two dozen of attacks, so he weeds out even more. He throws out anything that was race related, like the time Nubian Prince had had stones thrown on him by people wearing KKK hoods.

He doubts that's how Billy and his minions operate. The only group of people Billy hates are who he describes as 'posh gits'. Hence why Homelander had asked Billy to teach him how to make toast. Not knowing how to do that seemed like the kind of thing that would get him close to the dreaded 'posh git' title.

He also very much doubts Billy would just go up to a supe and _throw rocks_ at him. Not a very effective strategy. Nubian Prince really could've and should've stopped the clan members attacking. Though, he'd been told by the PI people to project the image of an 'Uncle Remus kindly black man', which was one of the stupidest things Homelander had ever heard. Nubian Prince was a fucking supe, he didn't need to gravel to humans. It had worked, though. Nubian Prince's approval ratings had gone up nearly five percent among the Caucasian population, after the rock throwing incident.

So. Homelander takes out all of the incidents were it's clear that no thought was put into the attack. There are rather a lot of those. It appears that around five years ago there was a trend among teens to attack supes and run away. Most of these events were ignored by the attacked supes which is a shame. As far as Homelander is concerned, they should have killed those fucking kids.

Which leaves one. An incident three years ago where Lamplighter was attacked by a group of men and one woman who tried to electrocute him. He'd told that story to explain why a video was caught by onlookers of him flying away from a pile of charred bodies.

That looks promising. Homelander watches the video, noticing Lamplighter, as he flies away, appears both wet, bleeding and shivering. That's odd. Lamplighter has an inferno growing inside of him, the fuck is he cold for?

Homelander considers asking Madelyn about this, but he can't. He doesn’t know if he trusts her anymore. She seems irrationally opposed to him getting Billy back. Until he can figure out what the fuck is going on there, he can't tell her anything.

He needs to go straight to the source. He needs to go to see Lamplighter.

*

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Lamplighter groans as Homelander lands next to him on the balcony of his country home. He's been laying on an outdoor lounger, but jumps up when he sees Homelander, who'd flied over to his home right after that interesting conversation with the four surviving members of the Seven about Billy and his team. They'll needs new members, soon. Honestly, the only people he's sure he wants to stay are Black Noir and Queen Maeve. Starlight especially is going to have to go.

Lamplighter automatically turns back, to look through the balcony doors to the lounge beyond. His family is sitting there, his wife and three daughters. Lamplighter swallows and turns back to Homelander.

"What the fuck do you want? I'm retired."

"Yes, I know, you seem to be having a pretty good time," Homelander grins and waves at the children inside the house. "Hi, kiddos! Remember me?"

"Homelander!" The eldest daughter pushes the balcony doors open and rushes forward, only to be caught by her father.

"Hello, Jane," Homelander replies.

"Jane," Lamplighter's wife (she has a few more burns on her body, Homelander notes as he gives her a quick X-ray) comes forward and takes the child from her husband's arms. She gives her husband a hard look, but he nods.

"It's fine," Lamplighter says quietly. "Take the girls inside."

The glance they exchange sends a burst of jealousy pulsing through him as he registers the perfect understanding that passes between without a word. Lamplighter's wife takes a deep breath and rushes back into the house with her daughter.

"It was nice to see you again, Beverly!" Homelander calls out as the woman herds the three girls into the kitchen, which is not visible from the balcony. Homelander is not entirely sure why she thinks that will help.

"So," Lamplighter takes a deep breath and sits back down on his chair, waving Homelander into the one next to him. "What can I do for you?"

Homelander sits down and takes out his phone, showing it to Lamplighter without a word. He settles down, watching Lamplighter watching the video of him flying from the charred human bodies. Lamplighter is nervous, but not scared. When the video is over (it's only around ten seconds long), Lamplighter sighs and hands the phone back to Homelander.

"I heard that they were back," Lamplighter says, and shakes his head. "I'd hoped they died, the fuckers. But I heard about what happened to Translucent. Saw the pictures."

"Tell me what happened," Homelander demands.

Lamplighter looks at him for a moment, "You're trying to beat them, you want information on that? I would go to Vogelbaum if I were you."

Homelander feels a bit like he's drowning. He's never drowned, obviously, he can hold his breath for hours, but Billy had nearly drowned when he was a teen, pushed into a river by friends who didn't realize how drunk he was (unfortunately, he'd only identified them as 'me lads', so Homelander had no way of tracking them down and making them pay), and had once described the experience to Homelander. And that was how he was feeling right now: panicked and sure that he was going to die.

Vogelbaum. Vogelbaum knew something. Something about Billy and what he'd been up to these past years. Homelander feels like poison is cursing through his veins, hatred growing and bubbling for the man who had raised him and kept him caged for his entire life.

Somehow, this betrayal feels worse then almost anything else.

"Tell me. What the fuck. Happened."

Lamplighter winces, and starts talking.

"So, it was three years ago. I was on my way home from…some party or another at Vought. God, I was fucking exhausted. Bev had just given birth to Joy, and she was colicky. So, I wasn't paying much attention to my surrounding."

Homelander rolls his eyes at that, but lets Lamplighter continue talking.

"The first thing I felt was water. Fucking_ water_, Homelander. They sprayed me with_ fucking_ water-"

"Smart. Given how your power is pyrokinesis."

"Yes, Homelander, thank you," Lamplighter says dryly. "They had barrels full of water, I don't know how they knew when I'd be walking home and what path I'd take."

"They were probably watching you for weeks, mapping out your paths and when you walk home," Homelander replies. "Found out your secret identity somehow. Smart, aren't they?"

Lamplighter scoffs, "If that's how you want to look at it."

It is. Homelander looks up the sky, at the stars, and motions for Lamplighter to continue.

"They got me complete wet. And then those fuckers brought out _electricity_."

"I didn't know you were vulnerable to that."

"I'm not," Lamplighter glared. "Not particularly. It was just useful because of the water. I heal fast, but I'm not as invulnerable as you. So they just kept on attacking me. Never let me a moment of rest to heal, and I couldn't attack because my lamp was entirely wet."

"Smart," Homelander repeats. So smart. Oh, darling, beautiful Billy.

"Will you quit saying that?" Lamplighter rolls his eyes and rubs his face. "I'd have thought that you, of all people-"

"You should never underestimate your enemy, Lamplighter. How did you get away?"

Lamplighter snorts, "Yeah, it was a close thing. I almost died; I won't lie. Well, a few moments before I would have been toast, these two children- the youngest couldn't have been older than ten- show up. They yelled at one of people- the only woman- calling her grandmama. They said 'grandmama, we heard you laughing from two streets away!' I think it was just bad luck, that the kids happened to be nearby."

"That would be a fair assumption," Homelander replies. He doubts any of these people are stupid enough to stage this attack anywhere near where one of their family members were. "What happened then?"

"One of the other ones- a Middle-Eastern looking guy- he turned to look at the kids. And when he did that, the hose he was holding kinda fell down. I wasn't getting soaked every second now. And that was all I needed. I grabbed my lamp and shot out fire. Only hit the kids, unfortunately. But it turned out- later- that their grandmother, the woman, worked at the CIA. Grace Mallory, that was her name. But that came later. At that moment, I flew all the way to Vogelbaum-"

"To Vogelbaum."

Lamplighter winces, and Homelander realizes that his eyes are burning red. Huh. he hadn't planned that.

"Continue fucking talking," He hisses.

He gets a horrified look out of Lamplighter, and the rest of the story.

Vogelbaum had helped him heal by injecting him with Compound V. He'd then been given a bunch of pictures, and recognized two faces. CIA Agent Grace Mallory, and William Butcher.

"He did have a beard, which he didn’t have in the picture. But it was definitely him. Vogelbaum seemed to recognize him, though. He didn't say it, but you know, he looked like it. Anyway, that was pretty much it. Stillwell made it clear that I wasn't to talk to anyone about what happened, and the party line around the children would be that I'd been attacked and the children had been used as a shield by my attackers. And that was that. No one paid much attention to the incident."

Homelander closes his eyes briefly, pushing all of his fury and hatred away, and then says, voice entirely calm and collected, "But you remembered. I mean, you've killed more then your fair share of little girls just like dear Joy and Jane and Jessica-"

"Jasmine."

"Look," Homelander snaps. "If you wanted people to remember those kids fucking names you shouldn't have named all of them a J name. Now give me the answers I'm looking for before I get bored and look for your lovely wife for entertainment."

Lamplighter's eyes did that thing where fire flickered in them, but Homelander just gave him a bored look, and Lamplighter looks away and takes a deep breath, "We're fucked up, Homelander. All of us. One day I'm probably going to off myself. Whenever I fuck my wife, I hurt her. I've killed so many fucking people I can't even count."

"For God's sake, Lamplighter," Homelander rolls his eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to start crying and apologizing."

"If I was going to," Lamplighter muses. "I'd apologize to you, wouldn't I? If we're the Greek Gods, you'd be fucking Zeus. The most powerful, no control over your cock. God of the sky."

"I would be, wouldn't I?" Homelander snorts and then waves his hand. "But I know you. You don't give a shit. You just think you _should _give a shit, so you try to give a shit. Or at least let people think you give a shit."

Lamplighter sighs deeply, "You can't even consider the possibility that I have changed, that we have done wrong things?"

"Don't be ridiculous," The fuck had happened to Lamplighter during the past two or so months? He sounds pathetic. "Did you remember it because of Vogelbaum?"

"Fucking hell," Lamplighter groans and rubs his face. "You're strong enough to destroy the whole world. You could have at least been stupid!"

Homelander doesn’t even dignify that with a response.

Lamplighter looks away from Homelander and says, "Vogelbaum isn't usually involved in these things. I have to say, I'd been almost a hundred percent sure that he would force me to leave, without helping me. I just didn't want Vought to know how I'd fucked up, if I could. But he was…very invested in this. You could tell. He cared, he was nervous, and just got more nervous when I recognized the man. Fuck if I know why-"

But Homelander was already in the air, stopping only to circle back and laser one of the girls. Joyce or Jenna or Jemma. Lamplighter didn't know, but if he'd told Homelander about all this when it happened, that would have been three years Billy spent with him. There were broken bones on his body from that time. Those breaks wouldn't have happened had Lamplighter talked.

Since he _hadn't_ known, and it was three years and not the whole eight, Homelander had left his wife and two other children alive. It was going to be a very, very different story with all the people who had proposedly deprived him of his Billy. These people are going to burn.

Starting with Vogelbaum.

*

"Dr. Vogelbaum. Surprise. Thought I'd drop in on you. You look well."

The doc looks up at him, patting the dogs around him, "How long's it been, John?"

It feels odd. To hear his name. He'd thought for a long time that the first person to call him that after so long without it would be Billy. And though he feels slight disappointed that it _wasn't_ Billy, there's a small rush of excitement in his belly at the sound of his name in the mouth of his creator.

"Long enough that nobody calls me John anymore," Except for Billy. But Billy hasn't called him that in eight years and three months.

"Hmm," Vogelbaum doesn't seem pleased by that, for some unknown reason. Homelander's jaw clenches further.

"So, what are those?" Homelander waves at the dogs. "Pets?"

"No. I'm just breeding them. German Retrievers. I try not to get too attached to my subjects. I hear yours was an English Bulldog?"

"Hmm. Well, that's true," Homelander scoffs, and then his mind catches up to the second part of Vogelbaum's statement. "How do you know about Terror?"

"Terror?" Vogelbuam tilts his head. "What an interesting name. I heard from Stillwell that you got a dog. She wasn't entirely sure where the animal had come from."

The man's intelligent eyes burrow into Homelander, seeing something there. Homelander doesn't know what that something is, but he doesn’t care to know. So he replies, "Seems retirement suits you."

"Between this, and eighty hours a week at the labs, I'd take the lab. No contest."

So. Torturing Homelander is more interesting than handling dogs. Good to know.

"So, you ever, ah, catch up with any of the old gang from Vought?"

"Look, do you mind if we don't do this?" Vogelbaum sighs deeply.

"Do what?" Homelander asks, shrugging slightly.

"This cat and mouse bullshit. You want to know about the Butchers. You've done some rather impressive detective work, I can see. And now it's led to me."

About the Butchers. Not about Billy. Not about Butcher. About _the Butchers_. Homelander is starting to feel something cold settle in his stomach. There is some hidden truth that he can see lurking just bellow the surface, but can't quite reach.

"So, just ask. I'll be honest," Vogelbaum promises. His promises used to mean quite a bit to Homelander. _Stay calm for a few more minutes and I'll stop the electrocution, John, I promise. You'll get to eat in a few more days, John, I promise_.

It doesn’t mean much to him now.

"That would be a first," Homelander scoffs again. Vogelbaum just smiles sadly at that.


	8. 2019: Part 2

A son.

He had had a son. A son who died before getting to live. A son born from Becca Butcher's filthy body. That's probably why his son had died. He'd been tainted by her. If he'd been there, his son would have lived.

A son. Vogelbaum had asked why it matters that it was a boy, but it was really very simple. A boy he could have called William, after Billy.

He should have been their son, his and Billy's. The baby that had lived ten seconds and drowned in his mother's blood. They should have raised him together in the penthouse with Terror. He'd seen Billy with children, specifically the cancer moppet and mewling thing that belonged to the CIA partner Homelander had killed. He was soft and kind with them, in a way Homelander really had never been able to understand. Children were some of his least favorite humans. But he had liked seeing it, that sweet side of Billy, and now he suddenly wants to see it with a child that belongs to him.

But he'll never be able to see that, because the child is dead.

"I'm sorry."

He almost laughs, almost. An apology. That's what he gets, for eighteen years of the lab, for eight years without Billy. Vogelbuam is looking at him as if he actually expects him to accept his apology, as if that would make it all better.

"I'm the world's greatest superhero," He points out.

"You're my greatest failure."

"No," Homelander shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm everything you ever wanted me to be-"

"John, you have no heart!"

"I have a heart!" Homelander screams, losing control in a way he hasn't in quite some time. But Vogelbaum doesn’t look nervous at all. "You took it away from me!"

Vogelbaum breathes out and sits back down, rubbing his face, "You mean Billy."

"Yes," Homelander hisses. "That's what I fucking mean. You knew, you knew where he was-"

"I knew," Vogelbaum agrees. "Because I put him there."

"You…." Homelander frowns. "You what?"

"I anonymously send Grace Mallory a video showing Becca Butcher walking into your office and coming out looking…well, you were there. You know what she looked like."

Homelander stumbles back into his chair, for the first time in his life unable to hold himself straight. He places his hand over his eyes, hiding that one fucking tear that dares to tumble down.

"Why would you do that?" Homelander looks up. "Why would you take him away from me?"

"It's something that Maeve has understood for years, but you never did," Vogelbaum says. "Supes- everyone's always looking for your weaknesses. Maybe it's this kind of metal, maybe it's that rock. But it's not. It's the people you love. But you never had that, so you had no weaknesses. Until Butcher came into the picture. And you thought you loved him."

"Thought?" Homelander growls. "_Thought_?"

"What you feel towards that man is not love, John. It's obsession," Vogelbaum takes a deep breath. "It's the closest thing to love that you're capable of feeling. And that's my fault. But it's still not love. It's not."

"So," Homelander looks up. "You didn’t want me to have a weakness."

"I wanted to be able to control your weakness," Vogelbaum corrects. "And I thought-wrongly, obviously- that you would be…calmer without him. It turned out that the opposite was true."

"And when you found out that you were wrong," Homelander growls. "You still kept him away! You could have told me where he was, and you choose not to."

"I did," Vogelbaum doesn’t sounds ashamed, of course he doesn't. "I wanted to be the one controlling your weakness, John. In case I ever needed to control_ you_."

*

Grace Mallory certainly_ looks_ like someone might follow- strong, tough, cold.

But she's clearly entirely broken.

Her eyes are dull with constant pain as she sits in her kitchen, drinking a hot beverage that Homelander had watched her pour: coffee mixed with three shorts of vodka and a pinch of some kind of powder Homelander would guess wasn't sugar.

She'd offered him a drink as well, when he'd walked into her house and perched on a stool by the counter. She'd looked up with that pained look that reminded Homelander of people he'd seen when visiting a terminal cancer ward. But Mallory isn’t sick, a quick scan proves that. For a woman her age, she's remarkably fit.

Mallory is being insultingly nonchalant about Homelander's presence, sitting down in front of him and slowly drinking her weird beverage. She hasn't said a word since Homelander refused a drink, but that's fine.

He can be patient.

The minutes tick down, the drink is finished, the woman stares on. Her glare is piercing and cold, and it unnerves Homelander with how similar it is to how Billy had looked at him when they were talking at the Believe Expo. So. She's the one who taught his Billy to be so cold.

As if he needs more reasons to kill her.

And she's still not speaking. Homelander almost rolls his eyes. What does she think he's going to do, leave if she doesn't talk quickly enough?

"Ok," He says cheerfully. "This game of who'll-talk-first has been fun, but-"

"Then you've lost."

"What was that?"

"If this is a game, then you spoke first, and I won," Mallory pushes her empty mug to the side. "You know, I've been waiting for one of you to come. I honestly didn't think your method of torture would be boring me to death."

"Huh," Homelander raises an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you had such a strong death wish. Where is Billy?"

Mallory doesn't even flinch, the bitch, "No fucking idea. I haven't seen him in three years. I made him promise never to come here. And he's kept his promise."

"You cast him out," Like Vogelbaum has done to him. like Billy had done to him, nearly twelve years ago.

Mallory glares at him, "You have no right to criticise anyone over their treatment of Butcher."

Fury flares up inside of Homelander and he smiles, tightly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"That I know what you did to him."

"I haven't-"

"You raped him."

A horrific, horrific feeling_ screaming_ inside of him. He knows it, this feeling. It's the same feeling that tumbled through him during that moment he thought he'd killed Billy eight years ago, all those moments in his childhood when he lost control of his power and disappointed Vogelbaum. It's a screaming feeling that he can't identify, but it makes him want to bury his head deep into the ground and never come out.

"That was a long time ago," Homelander replies, voice calm, convincing the screaming feeling inside of him. It was a long time, and Billy is fine now. He'd saved him, breathed life back into his lungs, and he'd apologized. And it was all over and done with, now.

"Yes, I suppose," Mallory shrugs. "But, of course, your six months together were also a long time ago. So I guess they don’t matter, either."

Homelander laughs and waves a finger at Mallory, "You really have a death wish, don't you?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm dead no matter what I do."

Well, she's not wrong. Homelander nods and asks, "Did you know, when you recruited Billy?"

"I've known about his rape for around seven years. That's when I found out. When I recruited Butcher, I only knew about his wife."

"Because of the video you got. Did you know it was from Vogelbaum?"

Mallory rolls her eyes, "No. Found out about that little piece of information three years ago, after my grandkids died. He sent me a note of condolence, the fucker."

"And our relationship? Billy and mine's?"

Mallory snorts, "Three months ago, Vogelbaum told me, to make sure I knew not to give you Butcher's location. But again, there's hardly a point. I really have no fucking idea where Butcher is."

"I know that," Homelander snaps. "I want to know why you recruited him in the first place. I want to know why you took him away from me."

The old woman watches him, hatred radiating off her like waves. It's wonderfully amusing. As if her hatred means something to him.

"I didn’t take anything from you. Butcher isn’t a fucking bag that can be picked up and passed around. If he isn't with you right now, that's because he _chose _not to be with you."

"No," Homelander replies. "Billy isn't with me because of you. I've seen him. He's been hurt many times with you, hasn't he?"

Mallory doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed, "Butcher is a CIA agent- or at least he was. Either way, he knew the risks and chose to take them, like we all did. He was willing to die. That's how much he fucking hates you."

"Well, you know what they say. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin."

"Wow," Mallory said with wonder. "You're fucking _delusional_, aren’t you?"

Why were people always accusing him of insanity when it came to Billy, the one normal thing in his fucking life?

When he doesn't respond, Mallory sighs in exasperation.

"Look, will you just tell me what you want, and then get on with the torturing me to death part of the program?"

They stare at each other for a moment, and then Homelander shrugs. Why not?

"The police, Vought and mercenaries Vought's hired are all out to find Billy. His options are about to narrow considerably. He's going to come to you for help."

"I fucking hope he doesn't."

"He will," Homelander insists. "Billy never abandons a lead. And he knows you have information that he doesn’t have. So, he'll come here."

Mallory sighs and rubs her face, "And when he does, what? You expect me to call you and let you know? That's not going to fucking happen."

No, that's not what Homelander wants. He can't trust on Mallory's ability to keep Billy in one place long enough.

"When Billy comes to you, and asks for help destroying me, you're going to tell him that Madelyn Stillwell and I are in a relationship, and that she's my weakness," That should make Billy jealous enough to come running to Stillwell.

"No," Mallory says calmly, pushing herself up and going over to wash her mug. "I'm not going to do that."

"_No_?" Homelander raises an eyebrow. "Really? You're saying no to me?"

"You're still going to kill me, no matter what I do. So why would I go to my grave knowing I've handed Butcher over to you?"

Homelander clicks his tongue, "For a start, you're acting like you're somehow betraying Billy by handing him over. Having Billy back with me is in his own best interest, I promise you. And secondly, we're not negotiating over your life here, lady."

Heart racing,_ bum_, _bum_, _bum_.

Hands shaking, Mallory puts the mug down and turns to look at Homelander, "So what are we negotiating for, Homelander?"

Homelander stands up, and calmly walks over to Mallory. He leans over her, whispering in her ear, "It must have been awful for your daughter, losing her kids because of your work."

Mallory grows rigid under his touch as he runs his fingers up and down her arm.

"But she survived! Survived and thrived. You must be so very proud of her. She and her husband even had another kid. Klara. She just turned one, didn't she?"

_Bum-bum-bum-bum-bum._

"It would be a shame if you had to lose another grandkid. I mean, I don't see how your lovely daughter would ever be able to get over it this time," Homelander hums and kisses Mallory's hair. "Do you think she would?"

"You fucking bastard," Mallory's hands shake. "I used to work at the CIA, if you think you can get away with killing my granddaughter-"

"We got away with killing_ two_ of them," Homelander points out. "And I've gotten away with killing a CIA agent twelve years ago. So. What do you say? Will you give that little message to my Billy?"

Mallory takes a deep breath, "I'm not going to allow you to become invincible to protect my own family. You can kill me, and all my family, but I won't help you."

"You and Vogelbaum…you both don't get it, do you? I'm invincible _right now_, I have nothing to fucking lose," Homelander sneers into her ear. "Keep him from me for much longer and I will burn down the sky. Give him back and I will need the world to survive. He needs somewhere to live. Clear enough?"

_Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum_.

"I'll give your message to Butcher."

"Attagirl."

*

At the party, Homelander finds Madelyn standing next to the windows, looking out. He walks over to her and says, "I heard you caught some of Billy's team."

Madelyn nods, turning to look at him, "Three of them. One a supe."

"Are they dead yet?" Homelander taps his fingers on the railing.

"We're hoping to get information out of them," Madelyn replies. So, that's a no, then. "But don’t worry about that. I want you to focus on our overseas offense. We finally got you in-"

"We?" Homelander tilts his head slightly. "I don't want to brag but…well, it was mostly me."

"How so?"

Homelander grins, "Did it ever occur to you that a supe terrorist showing up exactly when we needed him to was a pretty fucking incredible coincidence?"

He watches her face carefully as he confesses, and as he moves past her to stand at her back, he watches through her skull to see the small twitches in her face. She's angry, and concerned, but quickly pushes down those feelings. And when she turns to look at him, she has as smile on her face, wide and pleased like she's fucking proud of what he did.

She comes over to him, to kiss him, but he puts his hand on her mouth, stopping her. Madelyn freezes, and pushes slightly away.

"What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Homelander asks, placing both of his hands behind his back, straightening. Madelyn frowns at him, tilting her head as if she doesn’t understand.

"Tell you what?" Madelyn smiles.

"About Becca Butcher."

Madelyn sighs deeply and walks over to the railing, placing her hands on it, and says, "You've been through so much, I didn't want you to have to go through a miscarriage as well."

She smiles at him, and he smiles back, automatic. But Madelyn's smile fades, and she takes a step backwards when Homelander advances on her. He just walks past Madelyn, mind more or less blank.

"Home-"

Homelander raises his hand, stopping Madelyn without looking back at her. He's as still as a statue as he waits for her voice to trial off.

"Enjoy your promotion, Madelyn," He says and leaves.

*

Vogelbaum is sitting on a large sofa chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand, twirling it around and around. His eyes are blank, his forehead creased. Whatever he's thinking about, it's taken him far, far away.

But he looks up when Homelander takes a seat in front of him. Looks up and smiles, sadly.

"You came back," Vogelbaum says softly. "What tipped you off?"

"Madelyn," Homelander replies. "She's not as good at keeping secrets as you are. Can't quite stick to the story."

"Hmm," Vogelbaum takes a sip of his drink. "She likes the sound of her own voice too much for that."

"Will you tell me the truth, now?" Homelander asks, teeth clenching together. "Like you promised before?"

"I don't have much choice," Vogelbaum snorts. "If I don't, you'll just torture me until I do. I'd rather avoid that, if possible."

He's defeated, Homelander realizes with a start. He doesn't have any fight left in him.

"Tell me," Homelander demands. So Vogelbaum sighs, and does.

For the first time in his life, he hears the truth from his father's mouth.

*

He spends the next two hours in his Vought apartment, waiting patiently. He's ready to wait there for days, weeks, months, his ear pricked and listening to Madelyn. He hears her continuing to greet people at the party, pleasant and gracious. She was always good at that. He knows for a fact that most of the people she's speaking to are people Madelyn would rather give a bullet in the brain then a charming hello. But she keeps her true feelings hidden and buried.

Like she's done with him.

Homelander listens. He sits with Billy's necklace in his hands, wrapped up in a blanket he took from Billy's home, the one Vought raided. Sits and listens. With every step Madelyn takes, Homelander can hear words booming: _liar, liar, liar._ And with every word she says, he can hear _traitor, traitor, traitor_.

Eventually, Madelyn says her goodbyes from the guests and the Seven members still around, and makes her way to her home. While she drives, Madelyn puts on the radio and hums to the music. She's so satisfied and pleased with herself. Homelander wants to scream.

And then, when she gets home, he wants to laugh.

"Your kid's a sound sleeper," Billy says, his voice calm and even, and Homelander jumps up, throwing the blanket off him and tugging the necklace over his neck. It's show time.

He starts flying towards Stillwell's place, getting close enough to see that Billy is sitting in the dark, looking up at a frightened Madelyn. Her heart is beating fast, his is as steady as a rock.

"Don't worry, he's all right. So's the nanny."

Homelander lands on a house next door, just watching, feeling his cock grow hard as he watches Billy gain control over the powerful Madelyn Stillwell.

"William Butcher," Madelyn says as she puts the phone on the table in front of him. "It's good to finally meet you. I've heard quite a lot about you."

"Yes, I'm sure the CIA gave you some files," Billy says dryly, fingers tapping on his gun.

"I was actually talking about Homelander," Madelyn replies. "He talks about you…all the time."

Billy leans backwards, frowning for a moment, and then his face goes blank.

"What do you want, Billy?" Madelyn asks.

"You know what I want," Billy replies. And Homelander does. Billy wants revenge, he wants suffering. He wants blood.

"I don’t know how breaking into my home and threatening my child is going to get you Homelander," Madelyn's voice wavers slightly. And fucking hell. Still. It's still just that fucking baby she cares about.

"All these years, I've been searching for that cunt's weakness," Billy growls. "And now I've found it."

Madelyn frowns slightly, as if she doesn’t understand, "There isn't a weapon on earth that they haven't thrown at him. They've all failed."

Wow. He had no idea she was so stupid.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Billy says. "I'm talking about_ you_."

"Me?" Madelyn swallows and shakes her head. "It's not me-"

"You're the only thing he gives two shites about."

"No, no you're wrong," Madelyn shakes her head. "You don't understand, it's not me. He won't come to save me, he won't care-"

"I've got it on good authority that he will."

"I don't know who told you that," Madelyn places a hand on her mouth, trembling slightly. "But they were lying. The only thing he cares about is _you_, you fucking idiot! He's obsessed with you; he spends his time watching videos of you-"

"What?" For a moment, Billy seems like someone has punched him in the dick. But then he shakes his head and stands up, holding his gun, and throws something at Madelyn. It's a jacket with a few bombs strapped to it. Madelyn grabs the jacket and shivers.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Madelyn asks, voice wavering.

Billy stands up and points at the chair, "Put that on, and sit down. Bloody hell do you think I want you to do?"

"Please, I'm telling you-"

"I ain't interested in your begs," Billy shakes his head, pointing his gun at Madelyn. "Put it on or I go up the apples to your lad."

Immediately, Madelyn places the jacket over her chest and staggers to the chair. She probably doesn’t know that Billy means that he'll go up the stairs, but the mention of that thing she calls a son makes her act fast and without hesitation.

"Now what?" Madelyn asks, quietly, voice full of fear.

"Now, we wait," Billy responds, spreading his legs slightly to stand rigid and still like a soldier.

He lets them wait for a few minutes, allowing the tension to spread and nearly overwhelm Madelyn. He can see her shaking slightly, her hands clenched together. Her lips are shivering, her eyes wide. When he sees her get close to panic (Billy is still standing straight and proud), he decides that the time has come. Homelander stands up and flies over to Madelyn's house, landing with a _thump_ on the rood.

"Well, well, well," Billy says, looking up. He's looking straight into Homelander's eyes, like he's done so many times when Homelander has watched him in his bed. This time, though, he knows. He knows he's being watched and he doesn’t look away.

Homelander grins, moving down slowly and to the nursery. That thing is asleep, chest going up and down, moving its head back and forth.

"Hi there, buddy," Homelander mumbles, and Teddy wakes up. Blinks at him, and raises his hands to be picked up. Homelander complies, hoisting the thing into his arms. He keeps an eye on Billy and Madelyn downstairs as he does so, and hears Billy say, "Try and kill me, and my trigger finger goes soft."

Fear pumps through Homelander, and he quickly makes his way downstairs. These bombs will kill Billy if they explode and Homelander isn't there to scoop him and fly him to safety. And Billy will do it, the madman has no qualms about ending his own life to get what he wants.

"Now, why don't you stop playing rapey Santa, and come down and join us?"

"Oh, Billy," Homelander rolls his eyes. Rapey Santa. Really. Santa Klaus is fat. Homelander isn't fucking fat.

He walks into the living room while Teddy stars making those annoying sounds that apparently aren't cries but make him want to wring the thing's neck like a chicken anyway.

"Shh, Billy, hush," Homelander jingles Teddy a bit. "Don’t want to upset Teddy, right?"

"What are you doing?" Madelyn asks, breathing heavily. Homelander ignores her.

"Remember your partner, from the CIA, the one that got killed? God, after his son was born you wouldn't stop talking about that fucking kid for days, about how much he looked like his dad, how sad it was they never got to meet. Blah, blah, blah. I have to admit, buddy, I was _this close_ to throwing that kid into the ocean, just to get you to stop talking about him. But you liked him. You really liked him."

"Homelander-" Madelyn tries again.

Homelander rolls his eyes at Billy, "Sorry. Women."

Billy glares, so Homelander shrugs and turns to Madelyn.

"You all right?"

"No."

"Madelyn-"

"Take him upstairs."

"All good," Homelander promises. "I've got him. Just be quite for a moment. Billy and I are trying to have a conversation. Aren't we, Billy?"

Nothing.

"Billy," Homelander takes a deep breath, walking back and forth with Teddy. "Billy, Billy, Billy. You look…really tired, buddy."

Billy's eyes are following him, but other then that, he's getting no reaction. Homelander grins again. He can't remember ever feeling this fucking happy in his life.

"Well, still. You're really impressive. I mean, you always were but…I have to say, I've been getting a lot of masturbating done ever since you send me Translucent. That was really something. And Mesmer! Wooh, that was something else. You just…burst him like an overripe melon. A very fat overripe melon."

He can sense Madelyn watching, but she's not looking at him. She's looking at Teddy.

"And the things is…most people standing where you are, they'd be pissing their pants, terrified. But you…" He licks his lips, eyes trailing down Billy's body. "I mean sure, your heart's pounding, but you're not afraid. It's anger."

Teddy starts crying as Billy watches Homelander, watches him with the same intensity Madelyn is giving her baby.

"After all these years…you were never once afraid of me, pal, were you? Not once. No matter what happened. Never afraid," He's staring at Billy, in awe of this man, this beautiful creature sent by God to be his salvation.

"Homelander," Madelyn interrupts, comes between them. She's always coming between them. Homelander ignores her.

"And look, I know you're angry at me. Because of Becca. But really, I mean, that wasn't my fault. You're the one who chose to fuck her, right? I mean, I couldn't just let that stand, could I? If you fucked her, then I needed to fuck her too. Seems only fair," Teddy's screaming in his ear now, and Madelyn is trying to get his attention, get him to stop. "Actually, I was thinking, since you got so pissy about me and Maeve, maybe you and she, you know…"

He mimics the 'you know' statement with his hand.

"But what I will tell you is," Homelander grins as he pats Teddy's back, gently. "She was a hell of a lay. Came three times, eh? Three times!"

His smile fades away.

"Nowhere near your record, but still…" Teddy keeps crying and Homelander rolls his eyes and moves over to the crib, putting Teddy down. "All right little man, have a little lay down. Good boy-"

"I want you to take him out of here," Madelyn says, and she's starting to really get on Homelander's nerves.

"And now, you think I'm responsible for your bitch's death, don't you?" Homelander wonders as he walks back over to stand next to Madelyn. "So now, you have someone I care about, right?"

He begins to caress Madelyn's hair, and keeps his eyes on Billy.

"You have someone I love," He grips the back of her head and tugs. "So, what's your plan? From here? Uh, what do you want? Huh, Billy? What's your end game?"

And that finally gets a reaction. Billy takes a few steps forward, the light and dark playing on his face. His expression is still dead, still closed off. Homelander doesn’t think he's ever been this attracted to anyone in his entire life.

"I'm just gonna to hurt you," Billy says. And now, finally, his face isn't dead anymore. It's alive, alive with grief and fury and bitterness. "I mean, really fuckin' hurt you. And that will be good enough for me."

Homelander thinks about that for a moment, "So. You don't want anything, per say. You just want to blow up the person I love in front of me."

Billy just shrugs.

"Oh, wow. Fuck," Homelander laughs. "Billy, that's dark, buddy. I kinda like it."

The only problem being that the wrong person is strapped to the bomb, and Homelander has no intention of letting the right one go kaboom. 

Madelyn says something, again about that stupid baby. Homelander doesn’t even registers her words, just absently shushes her as he keeps observing Billy.

"Just…answer one question for me," Homelander requests, noting how Billy closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and swallows. "Just one. How do you know?"

Billy twitches slightly.

"How do you know, Billy, that it was me? That I was the one who killed your bitch? You must have some rock-solid proof, don't you? Right? Something that is stronger than everything you know about me, everything I've ever shown you. I love you, you know that, right? So. How do you know/"

Billy doesn't say a word.

"Now is not the time to be strong and silent," Homelander whispers into his ear. "Go for it."

But Billy doesn’t say a word.

"Or…maybe you don't?" Homelander clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "This whole thing, you killed a supe, you've strapped a woman to bombs, and you don't have proof? Not even a body? Billy, really… is this how they taught you to conduct investigation at Scotland Yard? This whole thing is based on fucking feelings? On a hunch?"

"Will you please take him upstairs-"

"Madelyn, hold on."

"Take him upstairs!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Homelander explodes, turning away from Billy for the first time.

He takes a deep breath as both he and Madelyn calm themselves down, and turns back to Billy.

"Excuse me for a moment, pal."

Homelander turns away from Billy again, and walks over to Madelyn. He leans down in front of her, so they're eye to eye, and can see the terror reflected in them.

"You promised me," Homelander hisses. "No more lies. You fucking promised me. You and Vogelbaum should have got your stories straight. They were so close, so fucking close. But there were a few little details that were different. So I went back to Vogelbaum, and I managed to _squeeze_ the truth out of him. The real truth."

Madelyn closes her eyes, and Homelander wonders if she knows she's done.

"You see, I know," Homelander says. "I know that you've kept him away from me. For eight years you've kept him away. And I know-"

He leans in and whispers into her ear, so Billy can't hear.

"-I know my son is alive and I know where he is."

He pulls away and raises his eyebrow at Madelyn, waiting for her reaction.

"I'm so sorry," She whispers, crying. "I know now that you don't need to be protected. I'm so sorry. Will you please take Teddy upstairs-"

Homelander stands up straight. The baby. It was always the baby. She never cared for him, not ever. It was always that fucking baby.

"And you never really cared about me, did you?" Homelander wonders.

"You mean everything to me-"

"No, no," Homelander clicks his tongue. "I mean everything to your job. You care more about that fucking baby then you do about me."

"No, I love you," She keeps on lying. Lying, always lying. They've always lied to him, all of them. "I love you, I swear-"

"Love me?" Homelander snorts. "You don't love me. Billy loved me, until you took him away. Until you polluted him against me, made him hate me instead. You don't love me."

"I love you!"

"Tell me the truth," Homelander asks her. "Tell me the truth or I walk out of here with Billy, right now, and I can assure you his trigger finger will definitely slip then."

"I'm scared," Madelyn whispers. And of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn't it. "I'm scared of you."

"What?"

"I said I'm scared."

"Of…"

"Of you. I'm scared of you."

Homelander closes his eyes for a moment. He had thought that she was the one person, other than Billy, that wasn't scared of him. But he was wrong. it was only Billy; it was only ever Billy. There could never have been anyone else. And Madelyn couldn't replace Billy, she couldn't even help get him back.

It was just Billy. Billy and him against the world.

"Thank you," Homelander says, genuine. And leans down to press his forehead to Madelyn's. "Thank you for finally being honest."

He kisses her forehead before pulling back slightly, and melting her head off. It feels good, immensely good. It feels slightly erotic. Maybe it's having Billy right there, watching as Homelander kills the woman that he had thought, somewhere deep down, could replace him.

Homelander turns to look at Billy, catching a horrified look before it morphs into nonchalant, and asks, "Now. What was that plan again?"

But Billy just smiles, "Told you. Kill the one you love."

And then he lets go of the trigger.


	9. 2019: Part 3

"Oh, Billy," Homelander clicks his tongue as he flies with the limp body in his arms away from the fiery house. "That was a bit overdramatic, don’t you think?"

He can't stop smiling as she cradles Billy to his chest and kisses his limp lips, he's so fucking happy. A part of him thinks that his heart might just explode out of his chest from how full it is from feeling Billy's body against his own.

Homelander shivers, his dick straining against the material of his suit. Finally. Finally. God, this is even better than he remembered. Billy's body fits so perfectly in his arms, his heartbeat is synched so perfectly with his, and he rests against him, head on his shoulder, relaxed and comfortable. In his sleep, Billy still trusts him like he always has.

Homelander takes a deep breath and places his forehead against Billy's as he flies. A bit like he's just done to Madelyn. But that had felt slightly wrong. Touching her used to feel quite nice, but not anymore. This, though…this feels incredibly right. It feels so right he can't understand why anyone in the world would want to keep them apart.

"I love you," Homelander whispers to Billy, even though he can't hear. Doesn’t matter. He's going to spend forever telling Billy that. "I love you so, so much."

They need to get to Homelander's son, but it's the middle of the night and he can't really show up while his son is sleeping. And anyway, he wants to do some things first.

He takes Billy to a farm a few hundred miles away from the city, far enough from anything else that no one will hear them. He very much doubts that no matter will happens next, Billy will manage to keep quiet. Or, well, even _try_ to.

The farm's owners are asleep in their bed, as Homelander can see from far away. He enters the front door quietly and puts Billy down on the sofa carefully. He leans over to kiss Billy softly before making his way up to the bedroom.

Slowly, Homelander snaps the husband's neck. The woman must be on some kind of sleeping pill, because she doesn’t even stir, so he moves on to her and snaps her neck as well. He then picks the bodies up and throws them out the window.

When he gets back down to the living room, Billy is moaning softly, jerking his head back and forth. He's starting to wake up, in a panic. Homelander rushes over to the sofa and settles down, pulling Billy into his lap and resting his head on Homelander's chest.

"Billy, shh," Homelander hushes into Billy's ear, and the man shutters and goes limp against him. He whimpers slightly and shivers. Homelander buries his nose into Billy's neck. "It's ok, I'm here now. Everything is ok."

Billy's eyes flicker open a few times, and he looks up at Homelander. His eyes are dulled from being knocked out and unclear, as if he's unsure of where and when he is.

"Everything is ok, buddy," Homelander repeats, kissing Billy's neck. As if automatically, Billy tilts his head, giving Homelander better access to his skin.

"J-John?" Billy asks, voice rough from sleep and confusion. Homelander shutters, and closes his eyes briefly, emotion rushing through him.

"Yeah, it's me," He croaks into Billy's neck, feeling tears sting his eyes. "It's me, Billy. You're safe now."

"W-what happened?"

"Nothing, hush," Homelander hugs Billy tightly. "Everything is fine."

Billy goes rigid for a moment, and Homelander just has time to curse inwardly (he couldn't have gotten a bit more time before the fight starts?) before Billy goes nuts.

He surges forward, pressing his fingers into Homelander's eye sockets hard while he kicks Homelander's stomach with his knees. It takes Homelander a moment to respond, a bit taken aback by how coordinated this attack is, like Billy's planned exactly what he will do in this situation. Which is probably just what he did.

"Stop it," Homelander gabs Billy's hips and pushes him off his lap, forcing the black haired to release his eyes. He blinks a few times as his eyes heal from the damage Billy has inflicted, and in the time it takes him to do that, Billy has jumped up and round-house kicked him in the teeth.

"You fucker," Billy spits out venomously as he lands on the floor. He scrambles up again and launches at Homelander, this time headbutting him with a bit too much gusto. Blood trickles down Billy's forehead, down to his beard.

"Stop," Homelander warns, grabbing Billy's middle and pulling him into his lap. Billy thrusts, trying to headbutt Homelander again, this time from behind. Homelander swears and takes hold of both of Billy's wrists in his free hand, pinning Billy into him by wrapping his legs around his body. Billy keeps on fighting, but he's just wiggling in place now, his heart pounding. "Billy, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Billy screams, spittle flying from his mouth. "You fuckin' bastard, I'm goin' to kill you, you fucker!"

"No, you're not," Homelander rolls his eyes. "You can't, and you know you can’t."

"I'll find a way," Bully growls, and Homelander is a bit unnerved by the mad look in his eyes. And then Billy tilts his head and bites Homelander hard on the neck. Which he probably didn’t _mean_ as a come on, but Homelander feels like he's going to come into his pants. Especially if Billy doesn’t stop _wiggling_ in his lap.

Homelander groans slightly and shifts Billy to the sofa, placing a hand on his chest to keep the man in place. Billy thrusts and curses, eyes wide and hysterical. He uses his other hand to release his dick, and Billy growls angrily at the sight.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," He warns.

"Just-" Homelander groans as one tug at his dick makes him spirt white cream onto Billy's stomach. Thank fuck. One more moment and he would have come in his suit. That would have been embarrassing to explain to his son.

"You little fuck," Billy hisses, kicking Homelander's chest and clawing at the hand holding him down with fingernails caked in blood and dirt.

"Sorry, I know this is gross," Homelander breathes out. "But you're so fucking hot, Billy. I couldn't help myself."

"I'm goin' to blow your bloody head off! Stick dynamite up your pucker and-"

His screaming is interrupted as Homelander slips his tongue into Billy's mouth. He licks Billy's teeth and the insides of his cheeks and his tongue, reveling in the familiar taste. It takes exactly a quarter of a second for Billy to react and bite down on Homelander's tongue, hard enough to draw blood. Homelander grabs Billy's jaw and forces it over as Billy fights to hold on to his prize. It takes some time to get Billy to let go, and Homelander shoves Billy back onto his lap, pressing his back to Homelander's chest, wrapping on arm around his chest and placing his other on Billy's forehead, pushing his head down to rest on his shoulder. This leaves Billy's feet free to thrust and kick and fight, but the rest of his body is pretty much immobilized.

Homelander's dick is still out and pressed into Billy's clothed ass. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but he's growing hard again.

"Shh," Homelander whispers. "Calm down, Billy. Calm down."

Naturally, he doesn’t.

Homelander sits on the sofa with Billy in his arms for around an hour. Billy doesn’t calm down, and if anything, just gets wilder. Homelander had hoped that after a few very busy days, Billy wouldn't have much energy left for fighting. But…well, he really should have known better. Eventually, Homelander rolls his eyes and stands up, throwing Billy over his shoulder and holding him in place by one hand while placing the other on his ass, rubbing softly.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me!"

"Will you give it a rest, please?" Homelander sighs, carrying Billy up the stairs to the master bedroom and through to the ensuite bathroom. "We need to get you clean."

Billy doesn’t respond, just keeps on the kicking and hitting and cursing. With a roll of his eyes, Homelander takes his hand off Billy's ass to open the bathroom cupboards, shuffling through until he finds a bottle of sleeping pills he assumed would be there. Well, that will be useful. Billy is really hysterical, and he needs to be calmed down before he hurts himself.

Getting Billy to take the pills proves about as hard as Homelander expected. He sits down on the floor with the fighting man in his lap and opens his mouth, trying to get the pills in. But every time he gets close, Billy bites on his fingers. In the end Homelander lays Billy's head on his shoulder and holds him in place while he slips the pills in, allowing himself to get bit in the process. He then pours some water into Billy's throat, making him cough and the pills go down.

He makes Billy swallow almost the entire bottle. Hopefully that will do the trick.

"There you go, pal," Homelander mumbles as Billy coughs and shutters in his hands. "You'll feel better soon."

It takes around twenty minutes, but eventually Billy's body goes limp. He twitches slightly, eyes open but fogged over by exhaustion.

"This…what't'ya want?" Billy mumbles, half asleep. "A fuckin' doll?"

"No," Homelander shakes his head. "I don't-"

"You want'me drugged."

"I don't want you hurting yourself," Homelander replies, laying Billy down on the bathroom floor with his back against his wall. Billy's head lolls to the side, and he watches as Homelander goes up to get a shaver. "You're going to fall asleep soon, and when you wake up, you won't feel this bad."

Billy snorts, but doesn’t reply.

"I'm not going to be drugging you on a daily basis," Homelander grins at the ridiculous idea, sitting down next to Billy. "I'm going to take your clothes off, now. Don't freak. You need a bath and a shave."

"Don't need either," Billy growls, but he doesn’t have the energy to fight Homelander when slips his jacket and shirt off.

Homelander bites his lip and traces the scars and new bruises that litter Billy's precious skin. He feels a nearly irrepressible need to burn the world down. The only thing that's stopping him is that, well, he and Billy kind of need the world to live in.

"Look what's happened to you, buddy," Homelander whispers, fingers going back and forth on a long scar that goes from Billy's left collarbone to his chest. "Look how much you've been hurt without me."

"I ain't…I don't need'y'protection," Billy mumbles, eyes flickering open and closed as if he's trying to force himself to stay awake. "Don't want'it. Don't want'you."

"Billy, shh."

"You'raped me'wife…."

"I know."

"Cun-"

Homelander looks up, only to find Billy's eyes have slipped closed and he's fallen asleep in the middle of the insult.

Well. That's pretty good timing. Now Homelander can work without being interrupted.

He takes Billy's pants and underwear off as well, and sucks in an appreciating breath at the sight of Billy's dick. With Billy asleep and pliant in his arms, Homelander finally has what he's wanted for eight years, and he's spoiled for choice. He doesn’t know where to start. Billy's muscled legs or arms, his washboard-flat chest, his scarred but still beautiful face, his messy hair and long beard. In the end, he goes for the obvious choice.

The dick.

Homelander lays Billy over his knees and gently runs his fingers over his dick. It makes something deep and dark in him evaporate, and he suddenly feels calm in a way he hasn't for years. Billy makes an uncomfortable sound at the back of his throat, so Homelander, disappointed but not wanting him to wake up, lets go of his dick and moves on to his stomach.

It's still incredibly muscled, as if Billy has spent his free time during the past years doing pushups. Homelander runs his fingers on the line of black hair that goes down to his naval. That makes Billy stir, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. Homelander decides to try something else, and leans down to kiss Billy carefully on the mouth.

Billy doesn’t push away in sleep. If anything, he relaxes slightly, allowing Homelander to enter his mouth again. This time, he has all the time in the world to explore. He tastes of Homelander's blood and of bitter pills, and it's not the most appealing combination, but who the fuck cares? It's Billy's mouth, and he's been deprived of that for eight years.

Homelander moans as he pushes his body over Billy's, deepening their one-sided kiss. Homelander hovers over Billy's body, cupping his bearded cheek with one hand and running his fingers over Billy's nose and forehead. He kisses Billy for a few minutes, but the beard is really getting on his nerves. It's scratchy.

Homelander flies over to the sink and brings over a shaver before filling up the tub and shedding his suit. He picks Billy up carefully and flies them over to the bathtub to place Billy in. He then carefully holds Billy's head in place and starts working.

The beard goes first, of course. It never should have been there. He's going to have to make it clear to Billy when he wakes up that beards- that's a no-no. He can't have those anymore. That's the easy part. Next comes the hair, which is a bit harder. Homelander's never given anyone a haircut, and he's not entirely sure what style Billy will want. What he liked twelve years ago is not the same as what he liked eight years ago, or what he had liked in the years in between.

So in the end he just gives Billy the style he had when they first met, shaving his side and leaving a bit more (though not as much as Homelander himself has, it's still very closely cropped to the head) on the top. When he's done, Homelander washes the hairs off Billy and then gently soaps his chest and shoulders and arms. He goes slowly, lathering each and every one of the limbs carefully, giving the most attention to his scars and various bruises that litter his body. When he's done with Billy's front, he carefully flips him, keeping one hand on Billy's chest to make sure his head doesn’t get dunked.

He moves on to Billy's back, washing his neck and shoulders and spine. When he gets down to Billy's ass, Homelander hesitates for a moment, worried that he really won't be able to control himself if he gets anywhere near_ that_ region. He wants to make sure his and Billy's first time in so long happens when Billy is awake and able to enjoy it.

But he needs to know. He has to. He has to know if Billy's been fucked recently. The idea sends pulses of fury through Homelander, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself, leaning down to kiss Billy's exposed neck.

"You haven't, right?" He mumbles into his ear. "You haven't let anyone near your anus, right?"

Billy doesn’t respond, obviously.

Homelander closes his eyes briefly and then dunks his fingers into the soapy water. He keeps his eyes on Billy's tight ass and wiggles one finger in, groaning.

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. _Fuck_. God, that feels so fucking good. Good and tight. Homelander bursts out laughing, unable to stop himself.

"And you claim you don't love me anymore," Homelander grins as he pulls his finger out, kissing Billy's ear.

If Billy didn't love him, he would have found someone else to fuck him, wouldn't he? But he's a stubborn fuck and it will take quite a bit of work to get him to admit it.

Next, he brings over a nail clipper and goes to work on Billy's nails and toenails, which are all far too long and really disgusting. It takes quite a bit of work to get all the dirt and blood out of them. Then he shampoos Billy's hair until it's soft under his fingers, making sure that no water drips into Billy's eyes. Lastly, he brings over one of the toothbrushes and brushes Billy's teeth, and then brushes his hair as well. 

Homelander washes Billy off, then gently raises him out of the water. Billy shivers in the cold, so Homelander quickly covers him in a fluffy towel and rubs him down, keeping Billy on his chest the whole time, not wanting to be parted from him for one second. He needs to feel Billy's skin against his own. He gives the same attention to his hair, and not that's short it dries pretty quickly.

Once Billy's whole body is dry, Homelander carries him out of the bathroom and lays him down on the huge bed. Reluctantly leaving Billy for a moment, Homelander moves over to the electric fireplace and turns it on. He then closes the windows as the room starts to heat up before going back to the bathroom. He picks up the toothbrush, hairbrush, soap and towel and lasers then. They'll have Billy's DNA on them, and he can't have that.

Finally, Homelander can go back to Billy, watching the goosebumps on his skin slowly go down as he gets into the bed, laying next to Billy and caressing his hair.

Homelander looks intently at Billy's face. Now that he's shaved, and his hair is cut, Billy looks very much like he had years earlier. He looks a bit older, but not radically so. The big difference are the scars. But those just serve as a reminder to Homelander what happens to Billy when Homelander fails to keep him close. He traces the scar on Billy's forehead with his thumb, and sighs deeply, pressing his forehead to Billy's.

"I'm sorry," Homelander whispers. "I'm so sorry you were hurt."

He kisses Billy's forehead, feeling the man's soft breath on his face, and then lets his eyes trail down to the rest of Billy's body. There are old bruises on Billy's stomach and chest, probably a few weeks old. But there are new ones starting to form on his wrists from where Homelander had grabbed him when trying to calm him down. His feet and knees are also starting to bruise where he kicked Homelander.

Homelander picks up Billy's right arm and kisses the forming bruises in the shape of his fingers. He doesn’t like seeing bruises on his Billy, but if he's going to have them, better they be the kind of bruises that show who he belongs to.

Billy twitches in his sleep as his bruises are caressed, so Homelander lets go of his wrist and sits down against the back of the bed. Carefully, Homelander places Billy on his chest and covers them both with the fluffy blanket. Cocooned against the world, Homelander runs his hands up and down Billy's spine, feeling the man's taunt muscles under his touch.

He's calm. He's not angry. He can't remember the last time he wasn't angry. And it feels…good. It feels really good. Homelander has forgotten how good it feels to be calm.

"I love you so much," Homelander tells Billy again, kissing his head. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Billy just whimpers slightly.

Homelander spends the night the way he used to when he and Billy were still together: with Billy sleeping soundly on his chest, his head tucked into the nock between Homelander's shoulder and neck. He caresses Billy's hair and hums softly to him, lolling him back to a deep sleep every time he twitches and moves around. Most of the time, though, he just watches. Sit on the bed and looks down at Billy.

He can hear the black-haired man's breathing, the pumping of his heart, can feel Billy's arms tight against his neck. He could spend hundreds of years just looking at his Billy.

As the sun starts to illuminate the room, Homelander sighs and stands up, placing Billy on the bed. He goes back to the bathroom and puts on his suits. Now, he needs to decide what to put Billy in. Billy's own clothes are a bit of a mess, but the only other option is dressing Billy in the dead farmer's clothes. And no, no, no. No fucking way is Billy going to be wearing another man's clothes. Right. Dirty clothes it is.

"All right, buddy," Homelander says cheerfully, throwing the clothes on the bed. "Time to get dressed. We've got a son to meet."

Billy starts to stir when Homelander puts him in his clothes. Homelander settles him on the sofa chair and leans down next to him, waiting for him to come back to consciousness. When Billy's eyes finally open, he smiles at him.

"Wakey, wakey," Homelander waves his hand slightly before placing both on the chair arms, trapping Billy in place. "Hey, buddy. You were out for quite a while."

Billy looks down at him, expression blank.

"You can thank me for saving you sometime later," Homelander tells Billy. "But for now, time to go. We got places to be, people to meet."

Billy tilts his head, eyes narrowing, and then says, "I wonder how long you think you can keep me alive, huh?"

"I just need to keep you alive for a few hours," Homelander replies. "Then you'll have another reason to stay alive. Now, come on."

"I ain't coming with yo-bloody fuckin' hell!" Billy screams out as Homelander hoists him on his shoulder again and lasers the bed. He grins at the sight of the destroyed bedroom and makes his way down the stairs with the wiggling Billy in his arms. When they get outside, Homelander stops for a moment, closing his eyes to enjoy the early morning son, before flying away.

They fly peacefully for a seconds (well, not peacefully, since Billy is thrusting and kicking and screaming and cursing and biting), before Billy lets out a small shriek.

"You fuckin' shaved me?!"

Homelander smirks, "You needed a shave."

"That ain't your decision!"

"Billy, you forced me to get a haircut because you thought it was getting too long," Homelander reminds him.

"I didn't-I asked, you cunt," Billy sneers. "I didn't sneak up on you and cut your bloody hair without permission."

"Ok, fine, but you did say you wouldn't let me fuck you if I didn't," Homelander points out.

Billy is silent for a moment and then quietly says, "Like that'd have stopped you."

Homelander comes to a full stop in the middle of the air and twists Billy in his hold so they're face to face.

"Yes, it would have," Homelander snaps. "It would have stopped me."

"Stop fuckin' lying," Billy sneers. "Before I break your board."

"My board?"

"Your fuckin' face!"

"Oh, right," Homelander shakes his head. "I forgot that one."

Billy glares, "It ain't that difficult-"

"It's really difficult, Billy. It's a whole rhyming slang based on words that don't rhyme."

Well, that seems to have insulted Billy's cockney pride, since his eyes go wide and he starts up again with the thrusting and kicking, so Homelander rolls his eyes and plops Billy back on his shoulders, resuming the flying.

They land on the front yard of the address he got out of Vogelbaum. Taking a deep breath, Homelander places Billy against the tree, and Billy is seemingly too confused by why they're in a nice suburb that he doesn’t move.

And then the door opens and his son comes out.

*

"And we are a family."

Homelander's son's eyes glare up in red, and he looks up at his father with adoration in his eyes. Usually, when children look at him like that, Homelander has to stop himself from punching them all the way to the sun. Just this once, though, it makes a warmth spread inside of his belly.

"Are you really my father?" The boy asks in wonder.

"I am," Homelander replies, and leans down to whisper into his ear. "And you're a little god."

"Becca-"

Homelander turns just in time to see Billy rushing towards Becca. The warmth leaks out of Homelander and he legs go of his son to grab Billy by the waist, hauling him up into his chest before he can reach his bitch.

"Let go, cunt!" Billy bellows, making the boy flinch backwards towards his mother. Homelander tries to smile at him reassuringly, but he still lets Becca place her arm around his shoulders and draw him in.

"Billy," Becca puts her hand on her mouth. "William, get inside-"

"William!" Homelander laughs as he hauls Billy up to his chest. "Is that your name, little guy?"

The boy nods, face worried, "Yeah."

"Becca, get the fuck outta here-"

"Billy, calm down a bit, will you?" Homelander chides Billy, and then whispers in his ear, "You want her to stay alive, don't you?"

Billy becomes entirely still.

"Attaboy," Homelander claps Billy on the shoulder and turns back to Will and the bitch. "Should we go in?"

Becca swallows, "I'll make lemonade."


	10. Becca And Hughie Interlude

She does, actually, make lemonade. Her hands are shaking, and she keeps stealing looks at William and the two men sitting by the table. Her son is in his normal place, at the head of the table, closest to the open kitchen, close enough to Becca that she can run her fingers through his hair every few moments. It helps her, calms her down enough so that she doesn’t burst out crying. She doesn't think Homelander would take that well.

Homelander is seated on her son's right, smiling his disgusting fake smile. She doesn't understand how she could have fallen for it, once upon a time. Thought he was a good man. Walked into a room with him.

Looking back, as she often does nowhere days, Becca doesn’t understand why she didn't listen to Billy's warning. He'd asked her not to meet with Homelander alone, and she knew that there was something wrong that he wasn't telling her. But she'd been so excited about the prospect of working with Homelander, the greatest superhero in the world, that she'd allowed herself to ignore the nagging voice inside of her that told her that there was something really wrong with Billy the night they came home from the party. That something had happened, and that she needed to know what it was.

Turns out, Billy had met his ex at the part. His ex and stalker and…well, Becca didn't know, really, what Homelander had done to her husband. But she could tell, looking back, that Billy was afraid of him. That he hadn't been sick, when they got back home and he threw up. He'd been reminded of something.

She's probably not the only person in their relationship who'd been raped by Homelander.

The thought makes her go numb for a moment, and she just manages to catch the glass that drops from her hand before it hits the floor. When she pulls herself up again, Homelander and Billy are looking at her. Billy, seated on the other end of the table (so he can see her better, she assumes), tenses up, ready to stand if she needs him, but Homelander raises a gloved hand to stop him. Becca rubs her eyes and turns away from all of them. Oh, God, what happened to her Billy? There's such darkness and cruelty in his eyes now. His eyes are a bit like Homelander's. What's been done to him? Is it all her fault?

Of course it is. She left him, let him think she was dead for eight years. And while she was comfortable in the suburbs with William he was out there in the streets, doing God-knows-what. Not that she would have done anything else, if she had the choice. What she did protected William for the first seven years of his life.

But maybe…maybe if she had done something different, Billy would have been able to protect William better than she could. Maybe Billy would have made sure Homelander never found William..

"Mom," William stands up and leans against the counter. Her son's eyes are full of confusion and a bit of fear. _Good, smart boy, be afraid. Never stop being afraid of him, no matter what_. It hurts her to admit it, but she needs William to be afraid of _both_ of them. She doesn't trust Billy not to hurt her son. "Can I go play?"

"I-" Becca swallows.

"That's a good idea, buddy," Homelander says cheerfully. He's always so cheerful. "Mind if I come with you?"

Becca lets out a pained little voice, but William doesn't hear, and Billy catches her eyes and nods tensely, once. Becca isn't sure what has happened to Billy in the past eight years, but something deep inside of her tells that she can trust Billy at that moment. So she takes a deep breath and nods at William.

"You can go," She tells him.

William looks at Homelander nervously, but nods and stands up, walking towards his room.

"My room is here," William points at his door as Homelander stands up and places a hand on Billy's shoulder. Billy tenses.

"You'll be good?" Homelander whispers to Billy. "While I go play with my son?"

"I ain't going' nowhere," Billy responds, clenching his teeth.

"I know you aren't," Homelander nods as William opens his bedroom door, nosing Billy's hair. "I'll be keeping both ears on you, buddy."

He pulls Billy's head towards him and kisses his hair. Becca closes her eyes as Billy sits there, still and unmoving, a fire of hatred burning in his eyes. Homelander pats Billy's shoulder and joins William, walking into the room. 

As soon as the door closes behind the two of them, Billy's jumping up and rushing towards her, and Becca lets herself fall, because she finally knows that there's someone there to catch her when she does.

And he does. He catches her, holds her in his arms, kissing her forehead and burrowing his face in her hair. He needs it as well, needs to hold on to her like she needs to hold on to him, and they collapse onto the floor, limbs entangled.

"You're alive," He whispers in her ear, his accent caressing her ears. She hadn't heard that kind of accent in years. She loves it. Billy used to make fun of her for that, for finding cockney accent sexy. But it wasn't the accent, it was Billy, the fact that it was his voice. She'd have found a Russian accent sexy if Billy spoke with one.

"I'm sorry," Becca gasps, curling into Billy's chest. "I had to-"

Billy places a finger on her lips, and she nods. Superhearing. He motions with his hand for a phone, and she hands her cellphone to him without thinking.

"I've missed you," Billy says, tapping on the phone. He's looking down, his tone lost and confused, and Becca can tell she only has a small amount of his attention now. But she knows when to play along. "Why didn't you let me help you?"

"I…I had to protect my son," Becca explains, and Billy winces.

"Yeah, guess you did, at that," But Billy looks up and glares. "I could've _helped_ you."

"Vogelbaum- the Vought people, that is, they told me I couldn't tell anyone," She's not sure if that's something she should let Homelander hear, but she needs Billy to know this.

"And you trusted them, but not me," Billy goes back to the phone.

"That's not-"

Billy smiles at her gently, and Becca suddenly has the feeling that she's participating in a play. Like some of Billy's anger (not all of it, unfortunately), is being aired for Homelander's sake. She takes a deep breath.

"My son was my priority," Becca says, letting her slight irritation come out. She's a mother, what does Billy expect? It hurts, so badly, that William isn't Billy's. By all rights, he should have been. And then Billy would have understood why nothing matters like that boy. He wouldn't have been angry at her for doing everything she could to protect him. "It wasn't about trust. They wanted to keep William secret. If they'd heard I told anyone about him, they might have taken him away from me."

"Hear that?" Billy mumbles. "They didn't want you to know 'bout your son. Makes you mad, that? Thought you was a god, but turns out us little people can trick you nice and good."

Becca feels panic roll through her and grabs Billy's arm, "Don't antagonize him, please."

"Ain't nothing to worry about," Billy replies, giving her a small smile that looks about as happy as a stormy sky. "He likes it when I sass him. Don’t you, Homelander?"

There's no response from the room.

Billy clicks his tongue, "That means yes. If it'd had been no, he'd have come out all righteous anger and fury."

Becca almost laughs, even though there is nothing funny in the situation. But it's so absurd, the fact that Billy knows Homelander, what he likes, what he enjoys. It confuses her, that the man she loves so much had once been with, loved, trusted, the man who had hurt her so badly. The man who had given her nightmares that even now, eight years later, still plagued her in the dark.

"And I'm the one who needs to apologize."

"No, Billy, none of this was your fault," Becca shakes her head, a bit confused by the sudden change of subject but resolute in her answer.

"Ain't it?" Billy asks, bitterly. "I should've told you about Homelander. About…the two of us."

"He hurt you," Becca tries to convince her husband. "You were traumatized. No one can blame you for anything you did."

"Becca, darlin', you should hate me," Billy replies.

Becca chokes, frightened by the coldness in Billy's voice, and kisses him gently, "I love you. Nothing will ever change that."

"Don’t," Billy pushes away from her. "He won't like that."

"I'm your wife, I'm allowed to kiss you," Becca objects, but Billy gives her a hard look.

"He don't see it that way," Billy warns. "You want to stay alive and with all your limbs? Don't touch me like that."

"I know," Becca wipes her eyes. "He made that very clear, that day."

Billy softens, "I'm sorry. I want to kiss you, too."

"I know," Becca repeats. And she does, she can see it in his eyes.

"How've you been?" Billy says, clearly trying to change the subject before Homelander loses his patience at their talk about wanting to kiss. "All right?"

Becca swallows, "As all right as I could be without you."

"Well, you had the lad, no?" Billy keeps typing, and then hands her the phone. She reads what he wrote and her eyes widen. Billy nods to her.

_It's time to plan_, it says in bold letters.

She swallows. It's time to plan.

*

Hughie falls down on the motel bed as soon as the three of them stumble in. He groans and buries his face in the pillow for a moment. So. A-Train may be dead, he's left Annie behind, Billy's gone and Kimiko is still in the hands of Vought. Yeah. Good times all around.

Groaning as well, Mother's Milk walks over to the bed and takes out the phone he stole on their way here. Hughie sits up to peek over the man's shoulder and sees him sign into a Gmail account he's never seen him use before.

"What’s that?" Hughie asks.

"I want to see if Butcher wrote us anything," Mother's Milk mumbles.

"How come-"

"You didn't know about this specific account? C'mon, Hughie, you really think we tell you everything we got planned?" Mother's Milk snorts.

"_Oui_, because unlike some people, we are always prepared."

"Hi, I brought a wire!"

"Ah, yes, _oui_, good poi-"

"Shut the fuck up, both of you," Mother's Milk snaps. "We gotta message."

Frenchie and Hughie shut up, and huddle around the phone. All three read the message and then all start talking all at once.

"He wants us to blow up a _school_?"

"What the fuck, Becca's alive?"

"Homelander's got an _enfant_? Good, that is good, _non_? Weakness, yeah?"

They quiet down, and Mother's Milk clears his throat.

"He _did_ say we don't have to actually hurt any kids. It's just a diversion. So that's…something."

"Right."

"_Oui_,_ oui_."

Hughie groans, "We're going to do it, aren't we?"

God-fucking-damnit. None of them seem able to say no to Billy in the end.


	11. 2019: Part 4

"Here," William brings over his superhero trading marbles, settling down next to Homelander. Each of the supes has a marble with different colors and their names written on them. The more popular the supe is, the rarer the marble and the bigger it is. Obviously, the Seven's are the rarest, and Homelander's the rarest of the Seven's. William has one of Translucent, but not one of Homelander's. "I'm trying to get a Queen Maeve one 'cause Freddie said he'd trade me his Homelander marble for a Queen Maeve and my Translucent."

"Oh, don't worry about that, little man," Homelander waves his hand. "I'll get you a few Homelander ones. You're my son, you have to have them."

But William shakes his head, "Oh, no. You have to win it or it doesn’t count."

"Huh," That seems kind of stupid, but maybe it's one of the things that make up a 'normal childhood'. Well, he's going to be changing a lot about William's life, he's just not sure which parts. Definitely the part about him living with his mother. He's not sure about the friends part. It's not something that he feels he missed, during his childhood. Most people aren't worth the effort it would take to pretend to like them.

William places the marbles on the floor and twirls the Translucent one with his finger. He turns to Homelander with a slight frown on his face and shifts slightly, as if nervous.

"What's up, bud?" Homelander asks with a grin.

"I just, um, want to know," William bites his lip. "Why haven't I met you until now?"

"Ah," Homelander sighs. "That's a good question, bud."

William looks expectant.

"Well…you see," Homelander rubs his hands. "I didn't know about you until now."

"Really?" William asks. "Why? Why didn't my mom tell you?"

"I think she didn’t want us to meet," Homelander replies, taking the opportunity to create a wedge between his son and the boy's mother. "Maybe she wanted to keep you to herself. What did she tell you about your dad?"

"She said his name was Billy," William mumbles. "My full name is William Jr. Mom said that he died before I was born."

Died? The bitch must have really burned Billy out of her heart if she spent the last eight years pretending he was dead. It annoys him a bit that she tried to pass Billy off as the father of Homelander's boy. But, well, she's not wrong, either. Billy absolutely will be William's father. Still. He's Homelander's son first. His little miracle.

"Well, Billy isn't dead," Homelander replies cheerfully. "But your mother shouldn't have told you he's your dad."

"I've seen a picture of him," William added. "My mom has it on her bedside table. He's kissing her in it."

The marble Homelander is holding explodes in his hand.

"Oh!" William jumps away.

"Sorry, sorry, bud!" Homelander laughs and puts the pieces away. "Show me more?"

William narrows his eyes slightly, but then nods and goes back to his marbles. While he talks, Homelander decides to listen to what Billy and Becca are talking about for a bit.

"Becca-"

"I know, I know," Becca sounds like her throat is closed. "I'm sorry."

"Becca, love," Homelander bites his lip in anger. "It don't matter now."

"Yeah, it does," Becca argues. "I left you for eight years."

Billy groans.

"I thought…I thought it would be easier for you," Becca mumbles.

"Easier? Bloody hell you talking about?"

"Because I couldn’t see you! They told me that if you knew, they'd kill you. I couldn't risk it. And I couldn't risk Homelander finding us somehow. And I thought…I thought that if you thought that I was dead, you'd just move on."

"That what you thought?" Billy sounds furious. "Then you don't me at all."

Becca laughs bitterly, "I thought maybe you'd change a bit. I guess that wasn't realistic."

"I thought you were dead," Billy whispers. "I mourned you. Eight years."

"I'm sorry-"

"Like I said," Billy sounds cold now. "I don't matter."

Homelander grins to himself.

*

When William and Homelander walk out of the room two hours later they find Becca and Billy sitting on the sofa together. As soon as Billy catches sight of Homelander, he jumps away from Becca all the way to the opposite sight of the couch.

Attaboy.

William blinks a bit at his mother, and then rubs his eyes and walks over to the back door.

"Mrs. Paw!" William calls out, sticking his head out of the door. "Come here, Mrs. Paw!"

A few moments pass, and then a huge ginger cat shoots into the house. William laughs, pleased, and picks the cat up, rubbing its stomach.

"That's a neat cat. She yours, kiddo?"

William nods and walks over to the sofa with the cat, placing it on the coffee table while he leans backwards on the sofa. Becca, abandoned by Billy, wraps an arm around William and kisses his forehead. Homelander doesn’t particularly like that, but he decides to allow it. William is clearly attached to his mother, and that bond will take time and work to destroy.

"Yeah, Mom got her for me for my fourth birthday," William tells Homelander. "After our last cat…died."

He says 'died' like it's only part of the story, and Becca stills.

"What happened to your last cat, big guy?" Homelander asks quietly.

William bites his lip, "I killed him."

"He was three," Becca blurts out, hugging William. She's shivering like a wet dog. "He was just a little boy, he didn't know what he was doing-"

"I just wanted to move him," William mumbles. "I kicked him too hard."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Billy groans and rubs his face. 

"He was three!" Becca yells. "He has much better control, now. It doesn’t happen to him anymore."

Homelander watches the fascinating conversation in silence.

"Oh, that's all right then. He can kill anyone, anytime, but he ain't gonna do it. No need to worry, then, yeah?"

"That's right," Becca snaps. "William is good."

"Well, we'll see about that."

"He's my son-"

"He's that fucker's son, as well, ain't he?"

"Wow, wow," Homelander chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need for cursing. Especially not in front of the young man."

Becca stiffens and then breathes out, slowly, and turns to William, "I'm sorry, we shouldn’t have cursed."

William is watching Billy and his mother with wide, nervous eyes.

"I never meant to hurt my cat," William mumbles.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Homelander waves his hand. "It's just a cat."

Surprisingly, that doesn’t seem to comfort William. If anything, it makes him stiffen and huddle into his mother even more, hiding his face into Becca's shoulder.

"Don’t listen to him," Billy suddenly growls. William doesn’t turn away from his mother, though both Becca and Homelander turn to look at the man. "You should fuckin' worry about it. You don't worry, you're as bad as he is."

"And how bad is that?" Homelander grins as William's eyes peek out and he looks at Billy with wonder. "I'm Homelander!"

"Aye, that you are," Billy mumbles. He turns to William and tells him gruffly, "Why don't you get on outta here?"

"Billy…" Homelander warns as William, seeming incredibly grateful, jumps up.

"I'll just go to Matt's place," William requests. "He lives next door."

"You'll be able to hear," Becca adds, quietly.

"All right," Homelander agrees, clapping William's shoulder. "Go on then, young man. Be back for dinner, yes?"

William nods and then rushes out of the back door, follows swiftly by Mrs. Paw. Homelander smiles as he watches William leave, keeping an ear out. He's pleased to hear William knock on his friend's door and be greeted by someone who must be Matt's mother. He makes sure that William makes it to his friend's bedroom safely, and leaves them to their video game, turning back to Billy and Becca.

"He's…he's a great kid," Homelander says with a shake of his head. "You really did an amazing job, Becca Saunders."

"_Butcher_," Billy sneers. "Her name is Becca _Butcher_."

Homelander shakes his head and moves towards Becca, "Like I was saying-"

Billy lets out a low warning sound a bit like a wolf would make when preparing for attack. He sits up straighter, muscles taunt.

"Oh, Billy," Homelander clicks his tongue in amusement. "Billy, Billy, Billy. Do you really think I'm going to harm the mother of my son?"

"Fuck if I know," Billy hisses.

Homelander laughs, "You really think the worst of me, don’t you, buddy?"

"I fuckin' wonder why-"

"Stop, stop!" Becca places a hand over Billy's mouth, eyes wide. "Please, Billy, don't make him mad."

"Get your hands off him, young lady," Homelander snaps, and Becca immediately takes her hand off. He smiles, trying to push down his anger at the sight of Becca touching his Billy, and adds, "Can William hear what we're saying?"

Becca shakes her head, "Probably not. It's not…constant yet. He can't control it, his superhearing, it comes and goes."

"Ah," Homelander smiles proudly. "He's really something, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Becca whispers. "He really is."

"He should know, though," Homelander adds. "How he was made-"

"_No_."

Homelander tilts his head to Billy, a bit surprised by the sudden venom in Billy's voice. He hasn't expected Billy to feel so strongly about something like that.

"No?" Homelander repeats.

"No," Billy sneers, and stands up, moving towards him. "You ain't tellin' him shite about that. He's just a fuckin' _boy_."

"He's my son-"

"He's seven!" Billy growls. "You. Ain't. Telling. Him. Shite. Clear, _John_?"

Billy stares at Homelander, and Homelander is reminded of all the times they'd been fucking, and Billy would use that exact tone of voice when saying things like, _suck me cock _or _kiss me again_. And every one of these demands had ended the exact same way. With his name hissed into Homelander's ear.

_Suck me cock, John. Kiss me again, John. You ain't tell him shite, clear, John?_

"I won't," Homelander whispers, unable to deny Billy anything, not when he's using that voice. He slinks his arm around Billy's waist, pulling him against him. Billy allows himself to be moved, eyes narrowed and expression wary. He places his lips next to Billy's ear and whispers right into it, "For you, I won't tell William how I fucked his mother while she screamed and cried for mercy."

Billy twitches, and Homelander gently licks his ear. As he does so, he flicks his eyes up to Becca and is satisfied to see her look away and wipe her eyes from a stray tear. Homelander grins and twirls Billy around, kissing his neck before releasing him. Billy stands in place for a moment, and then makes his way back to the couch and sits down, as far away from Becca as he can get.

*

They spent the next few hours sitting in the living room. No one says a word.

Becca sits on the sofa, wrapped into herself, eyes glued to the TV Billy had turned on for some unknown reason. Maybe just to try and dispel the uncomfortable silence.

Billy is still on the couch, but as far away from Becca as he can get. His eyes go from the TV (which is discussing Madelyn's death- apparently the prevailing theory is that it was done by a supe terrorist) to Becca to Homelander. Every time Billy's eyes meet Homelander, Homelander feels a shiver of arousal go down his spine. If William wasn't in the house next door, he'd get to work on Billy's clearly needed orgasm. But unfortunately, his son could come in at any moment.

When William does return, at around seven, he's dirty from playing in the dirt and his eyes are sparkling with life. As soon as he walks in, Becca rushes up and hugs him, asking in what is probably meant to be a calm voice, "Did you have a good time, baby?"

"Yeah," William seems to deflate slightly as he takes in the room.

"Sit down," Becca clears her throat and wipes her eyes. "I'll make some frozen pizza."

"Ah, dinner, good," Homelander grins and stands up. He walks over to the table and sits down next to William. Becca freezes, and Homelander smiles at her until she looks away. "Billy, come join us."

Billy doesn’t move.

"Billy," Homelander lets a bit of a warning tone to enter is voice. "Come join us. I'm sure you don't want to upset Becca, do you?"

Well, that's clear enough for Billy. He gets up stiffly and sits down, in front of the empty chair and next to Homelander. Homelander wonders for a moment if he's sitting there because he wants to be near Homelander, or because he wants to make sure Becca doesn’t have to sit next to him. Unfortunately, it's probably the latter, but Homelander lets it slide.

Homelander places his hand on Billy's thigh under the table. Billy's breath hitches slightly, but then he gains control over himself and places his hands on the table.

No one speaks as the pizzas cook in the oven or while they eat them. Well, while the other three eat. Homelander isn't hungry, and even if he was, he wouldn't want to eat anything made by Becca. He spends the dinner watching his son, and slowly moving his hand down Billy's thigh, rubbing his leg softly.

Billy chokes on the piece of pizza he's holding when Homelander's hand reaches his dick. His heartrate starts thumping and the piece of pizza falls down back to the plate as his hands shake.

"Are you ok?" William asks innocently.

"Fine," Billy chokes out, and glares at Homelander. Homelander just grins back at him, watching Becca from the corner of his eye. She's shaking slightly, tears starting to appear in her eyes. Homelander tilts his head slightly at Becca, just to remind Billy what's at stake if he misbehaves. He waits to see if Billy will say anything, but the man just turns back to his plate and picks the pizza back up.

"Are you sure-"

"_William_," Becca snaps, and William jumps, glaring at his mother.

"I'm just trying to be nice," William says petulantly. Taking advantage of the distraction, Homelander tightens his hold on his prize, and Billy clenches his teeth.

"I know," Becca replies, rubbing her face. "I know, baby, but please…please just eat your food, ok?"

Her voice breaks and she looks away, hiding her face under her locks of hair. Homelander hums as he rubs Billy's dick up and down. But Billy isn't getting hard, and isn't making a noise. Well, Homelander isn't in any rush. He'll sit there until Billy is ready to rumble.

When the meal is finally over (Homelander gets the feeling that Becca has rushed through it as quickly as she can), Becca clears her throat and says, "I'm…going to go help Willian with his homework."

She looks at him, clearly waiting for permission. Wanting some time alone with Billy, Homelander nods, "Go do your homework, young man. I'll come see you before you go to sleep."

"Ok," William mumbles, and goes over to his bedroom.

Homelander grips Billy's dick in a vice-like grip, to make sure he can't move, and informs Becca that he and Billy will be in the guest room he saw upstairs (he's not putting Billy down on her bed). He can hear Becca's heart going all nuts when she hears that, but Billy doesn’t react. Just stares forward, expressionless.

"Come on, buddy," Homelander stands up and takes hold of Billy's elbow, forcing him up as well. "Let's retire for the night."

*

"She's not dead," Homelander reminds Billy. They're in the guest bedroom, Billy sitting on the bed watching Homelander take off his boots and gloves. "So you can stop sulking now."

Billy just watches him, like a lion approaching prey, silent and deadly, waiting patiently for an opportunity to pounce. Homelander isn't sure what opportunity could possibly present itself to Billy, but he'll be on the lookout. Billy's cunning and intelligent, he usually manages to find a way.

"I thought you'd be happy," Homelander complains, dropping down on the bed. "See if I ever do anything for you again."

He places his hand gently around Billy's neck, to judge his reaction. Billy responds by turning towards Homelander, grinning like a maniac- and then spitting in his face.

"Fuck!" Homelander curses, grabbing Billy's neck and shoving him down on the bed. He wipes his face and straddles Billy's thighs as he tries to sit up, pinning his wrists above his head.

This is becoming a familiar position. Homelander isn't fond of it.

"That was rude," Homelander chides as Billy bares his teeth. "_Why_ are you being like this?"

Billy glares, and Homelander has to admit it's a bit of a silly question.

"Ok, fine, fine," Homelander sighs and lets go of Billy's wrists. Oddly, Billy stays in place. "I know you're mad because of that…little incident with Becca. But, to be fair, you've been mad for eight years because you thought I raped _and_ killed her. Well, ta da! I just raped her."

Billy takes a deep breath, then asks, "How many?"

"How many what?" Homelander frowns.

"How many blokes and birds have you buggered without askin'?"

Oh. Is Billy_ jealous_?

"I don’t know," Homelander admits, but then hurries to reassure Billy. "But none of them matter. No one's ever mattered but you."

"That ain't why I'm askin'," Billy replies through clenched teeth.

"No?" Then what the fuck is it? "Then why-?"

Billy looks to the side, "Wanted to know if you knew."

"Ah… and is it bad or good that I don't know?" He needs to know if he's just gained or lost points.

"Bad!" Billy screams, suddenly throwing up a fist. Homelander, though taken aback, manages to catch it an inch from his nose.

Well. He has his answer.

"You ain't even give them the courtesy of remembering their bloody existence!"

"Because I don't care about them!" Homelander yells back, eyes growing red. Not that that gets any reaction out of Billy. "They don't _matter_-"

"They matter," Billy objects, breathing heavily. "They're people, ain't they? They matter!"

"They're just mudpeople! I'm a fucking god, they're ants under my feet!"

"And I ain't?"

"No," Homelander shakes his head fiercely. "You're not like them."

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"Because I love you!" Homelander explodes. He stands up, pulling Billy into his arms, hands under his ass.

Billy stares at him, expression a bit shell-shocked. He doesn’t put his arms around Homelander's neck like he used to, but he also doesn't try hitting Homelander again.

"I love you," Homelander repeats. Billy just glares at him. "I love you, and that makes you different."

"Why?" Billy asks, his voice small and broken. "Why the bloody _fuck_ did it have to be me?"

Homelander shrugs. He's asked himself the exact same question many times.

"I don't know," He admits. It's partly because Billy's not afraid of him, but not only. There's something about Billy, that Homelander has never been able to explain. But…"Why does it matter?"

"It matters," Billy whispers. "I need to know what's _wrong_ with me, that I attracted someone like _you_."

"I guess it means you're special," Homelander replies cheerfully.

Billy looks down, then back up. When his eyes flicker back to Homelander, they're full of that unsettling manic fury that Homelander really fucking hates. And before Homelander can quite figure out what is happening, Billy attacks again.

And that's pretty much how the rest of the night goes.

Billy screams and curses as he uses every method available for him to attack Homelander. Fists, kicks, biting, headbutts. He breaks the desk and chair and throws the pieces at Homelander, hitting him with a few pieces like they were swords and trying to skew him with the sharper pieces in the neck.

He's not exactly quiet, and William wakes up a few times. But Becca, who never stirs form his side, stops him every time he tries to leave his room. Homelander can't really pay attention to his son, though. His mind is consumed by the beautiful hurricane of madness that is his Billy.

Every few hours, it's like all the energy leaks out of Billy. He suddenly stops, collapsing onto the floor. His breathing becomes ragged and choked, and he closes his eyes tightly to stop any tears from spilling out.

He doesn’t fight it when Homelander sits down on the floor next to him and moves him into his lap. He just hiccups into Homelander's chest, slowly calming down as Homelander hushes and whispers sweet nothings into his ear.

Every time Billy's breathing evens out like he's about to fall asleep, Homelander holds his own, hoping they're finally done and he can just hold Billy like he wants to. Fuck, is that so much to ask?

But every fucking time, Billy stiffens in his arms, like he's remembered he's supposed to hate Homelander now, and the fighting starts again.

Homelander isn’t sure if it's more annoying or worrying. It's like Billy has absolutely no control over his emotions, going from one extreme to the other in rapid succession. There's a wild, nearly insane look in his eyes when he's angry, but a dull, dead one when he's huddled into Homelander. Neither is particularly reassuring.

But Homelander knows what he needs to do. Just wait out the storm. Let Billy rage at him, and just stay. He needs to show Billy that no matter what, no matter how furious and destructive he gets, he'll never be able to scare Homelander away. Homelander will always be there, waiting for Billy to stop fighting.

And those moments where Billy collapses into his arms, huddling into him, are worth all the fury and broken furniture. They'd be worth breaking down the whole fucking neighborhood. It sustains Homelander through the night.

At around seven in the morning (amazingly, the alarm clock has survived all of Hurricane Billy's attacks), Homelander looks up with Billy curled into him to see Becca get William out of bed and get some clothes out of the closet for him.

"Mom?" William asks quietly as Homelander runs his fingers through Billy's hair. "What's, um, what's going to happen now?"

"Well," Becca says, trying to sound bright and happy. "I'll drive you to school today-"

"That's not what I meant," William replies, taking off his pajama shirt and putting on the one handed to him by his mother. "You know it's not."

"I know, baby," Becca kisses his forehead, her heartrate faster than it would normally be. "But I don’t…I don't know what's going to happen now. But I promise you that Billy and I will keep you safe, ok? We won't let anyone hurt you. I swear."

What, does she think that Homelander will hurt his own son? That fucking bitch. She really needs to go.

Homelander looks down at Billy and nudges him gently, "William's awake, buddy. It's time to get up."

Billy doesn’t react as Homelander places him on the bed. Billy closes his eyes, body limp as he sits. Homelander leans down next to him with a limp cloth he got from the bathroom and puts Billy's palm in his hand. Billy's hands (unsurprisingly) are covered in splinters, small cuts and blood. He carefully gets the splinters out of both of Billy's palms and washes them with the cloth. Billy doesn’t move as he works, doesn't make any noise or shows any emotions. Just sits there with his eyes closed, waiting to be moved around.

Homelander clicks his tongue and looks up at Billy, "It's not that bad, pal. But I wish you'd stop hurting yourself."

The black hair man glares at him and snatches his hands away, "I'm goin' up to Becca."

"Now you're just trying to annoy me," Homelander kisses Billy's forehead and ruffles his hair. "But we are going up, so…"

*

William is glaring down at his cereal when Billy and Homelander comes up. He looks up and bites his lip before looking back down. Becca, who's been standing by William, studies Billy with an expression Homelander can't decipher.

Annoyingly, _Billy _seems to be able to decipher it, since he says calmly, "I'm all right, darlin'."

Homelander takes hold of Billy's wrist and steers him to the sofa, away from Becca. Billy sits down meekly, eyes never leaving his bitch. Not even when Homelander caresses his cheek gently.

"Did you sleep well, William?" Homelander asks cheerfully, keeping one hand on Billy's shoulder.

William shakes his head silently.

"Yeah," Homelander chuckles. "I guess we were a bit loud. Sorry about that. But everything is all right now, right, Billy?'"

He looks down at Billy expectantly, and Billy hesitates for a moment before nodding.

"Everything's all right, lad."

That doesn’t seem to comfort the boy, and he just swallows and looks back down.

Well. This is getting a bit awkward.

"I need to get William to school," Becca says quietly, looking at Homelander with slight worry. "Can…can I-?"

"Hmm," Homelander tilts his head in thought. "I'm not sure he needs to. We'll be leaving for New York soon, anyways."

Becca starts smelling of adrenaline, "What do you mean? This is William's home-"

"Not for long," Homelander says cheerfully. "I live in New York; my family should live there with me."

"What?" Becca lets out a small shriek. "No, you can't. Vought said-"

"I don't give a fuck what Vought said," Homelander growls, and Becca immediately closes her mouth.

Billy, though, just snorts and shoves Homelander's hand away, "Thought you wanted him to have a good life."

"He'll have a good life in New York," Homelander argues. "He'll live with us, and he won't have to deal with mudpeople children."

"He's got a good one here," Billy snaps. "You got friends, laddie?"

"Yeah," William says in a small voice.

"There you go," Billy shrugs up at Homelander. "And you may not know this, but friends are generally considered a useful thing for a good life."

"Fine," Homelander sighs. "We’ll discuss your living conditions later, William. You can go to school today."

"Wonderful," Billy tries to stand up, but Homelander raises a hand to stop him. "And where do you think you're going, Billy?"

"With Becca," Billy sneers. "Or did you think I'd let you go with her? I ain't trustin' you with her."

"I told you," Homelander sighs. "I'm not going to hurt Becca. We'll all go."

"You can't," Becca whispers. "Please. You can't let anyone know you're William's father. He'll be hounded by the press, he-"

"You be quiet for a moment," Homelander asks pleasantly. "I'm talking to Billy."

"William is her son," Billy says. "And she knows him best."

"I'm not going to hide the fact that William's my son-"

"Just let him go to school," Billy shakes his head in clear anger. "He's just a _boy_."

Homelander looks at William, who looks nervous and unsure of himself. Homelander wants to show the boy off to the whole world, but he wants to give Billy what he wants even more. So he nods and slips into the sofa next to Billy.

"You can take him," He tells Becca, taking hold of Billy's wrist. "But I'll be keeping a close watch on you. And if anything seems wrong, you won't see William for a long, long time. Clear?"

Becca swallows, "Clear."

*

As soon as they're alone in the house, Homelander grabs Billy and pulls him into his lap. Billy grits his teeth and tries to push away, but Homelander easily holds him in place with one hand, using the other to unzip Billy's pants.

"Don’t you fuckin' dare," Billy glares, covering his pants with his hand.

Homelander looks up, exasperated, "Why not? I know you love me, so why don't you let me love you?"

"I don’t," Billy snarls.

"Yes, you do."

"I don't," Billy repeats. "You're a bloody monster."

"Oh, am I?" Homelander leans backwards on the cushions, resting his hand on his side. "Remind me, which one of us killed a baby two nights ago?"

Billy goes still, eyes growing wide. He seems entirely taken aback by Homelander's accusation, and it takes him a few moments before he can reply. When he does, he shakes his head and croaks out, "You could've saved the basin of gravy."

"Really? I'm responsible for the death of people I fail to save? That doesn’t seem fair," Homelander mock-pouts, then grins. "You're the one who strapped bombs to his mother when you knew he was in the house and then blew them up when he was right there. You didn't really think I would save him, did you?"

"Shut it."

"You probably didn't even think about it, did you, pal? You only thought about me. You don't think about anyone other than me."

"Not 'cause I love you, you fuck!" Billy pushes off Homelander's lap, stomping back and forth. "I don't love you!"

"You're obsessed with me," Homelander stands up as well, walking towards Billy.

"Shut it! Shut the fuck up!"

"You love me," He grabs Billy's wrists, and Billy pulls backwards, breathing growing ragged. "You love me."

"No! I hate you! I fuckin' _despise_ you!"

"But you love me, too."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!" Billy tries hitting Homelander in the chest. "I don't!"

"You love me," Homelander repeats, feeling tears try to worm their way out of his eyes. Billy's nearly hyperventilating now, shaking his head back and forth with dizzying speed. He's going to get a headache. "You hate me, but you love me."

"I don't!"

"You love me!"

"Yes!"

Homelander drops Billy's wrists, too shocked to realize that he's taking a few steps away from Billy until the back of his knees hit the sofa. He's not sure, though, who's more shocked between the two of them.

Billy's breathing hard, hands clenched into fists. He's nearly red in the face, and his eyes are widening with horror as he registers his own words. Homelander isn't sure what to think, himself. He hadn't expected Billy to actually admit to it. At least not so quickly.

"Yes, all right?!" Billy screams, advancing on Homelander. "I fuckin' love you, I fuckin' hate you, that what you wanted to hear?!"

"Yes," Homelander breathes out, wrapping an arm around Billy's shoulders and cupping his cheek. But Billy pushes away. "Billy…"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"It's ok," Homelander pushes Billy into the couch, crouching over him. "It's ok, it's ok."

"No, it ain't-" Billy moves his head to avoid Homelander's mouth.

"It is," Homelander insists. "It is."

"No," Billy breathes out, eyes closing.

"I promise you that everything is ok, now," Homelander whispers into his ear. "I love you."

Billy lets out a broken cry- and then gives up.

He surges forward, capturing Homelander's mouth in a brutal kiss. Homelander groans at the sensation of Billy's tongue slipping into his mouth, of Billy's hands wrapping around his neck. Now that Billy's started, he doesn’t seem willing to wait for things to warm up on their own. He jumps forward, wrapping his legs around Homelander's waist and from that better advantage point he deepens their kiss, urging Homelander's tongue to come out and play. He bites Homelander's lips viciously, as if he's trying to devour him.

Homelander is consumed by Billy. All of his senses take in Billy, Billy and nothing else. He feels Billy's hard muscles under his wondering hands, can smell the tears and lust and adrenaline that pours out of him, hears his breathing and the steady beat of his heart, sees Billy's face close to his anytime he opens his eyes, and tastes his warm and inviting mouth. There's nothing else in the world, just Billy.

They kiss and kiss, breaking apart for seconds to let Billy breathe before he attacks again. After Billy does something pretty amazing with his tongue, Homelander's legs go out under him for a moment, and he takes a step backwards. Before he can regain his balance, though, Billy gives him a hard shove and he goes down, landing on the ground with Billy still in his arms.

Billy pulls slightly away, perched on Homelander's chest like it's a throne, and looks down at him. Fuck, he's stunning. The tears are still spilling down his cheeks, but the lust that's radiating off him more then makes up for it.

"Bi-"

"Shut the fuck up," Billy growls, then leans back down to continue their kiss.

Homelander squeezes Billy's ass through his jeans, and Billy hisses and wiggles slightly. Homelander grins into Billy's mouth, moving one hand to the man's front. Under the jeans, he's as hard as Homelander.

"No," Billy snaps, ripping his mouth away from Homelander's. "You ain't buggerin' me."

"But-"

"No," Billy's eyes narrow. "Now, let's see what you'll do."

Homelander knows a test when he sees one. He thinks about it, but there's no reason not to give Billy what he wants. Billy's always sweetest when he's under the delusion he's in charge. And even though he definitely wants to fuck Billy, he can't really think of a reason why it has to be now. There's nothing he can prove by it.

"I'll suck your dick," Homelander announces.

"You ain't getting' nowhere near my cock," Billy replies. And that's too much for Homelander to take. But before he can make that clear, Billy adds, "I'm suckin' yours. Maybe that'd get you to shut it finally."

Even better.

"If you want," Homelander grins and wiggles his dick out of his pants as Billy slips off him. "I'd never say no to a blowjob from you."

Billy doesn’t respond, just looks down at Homelander's dick with narrowed eyes. He looks a bit like an art critique observing a confusing and controversial work of art that he nevertheless enjoys. That is, like something he likes seeing but isn't sure why, and isn't sure if he's allowed to think that. It's pretty cute.

He doesn't rush, like he did with the kissing. Just sits there, looking down at Homelander's rock-hard dick for a few moments. And then he licks his lips in what seems to be an entirely unconscious move, and spits into his hand.

He wraps his hand around Homelander's dick and Homelander groans. That's a mistake. Billy smiles cruelly and takes his hand away.

"Billy-"

"Shut it," Billy crawls over his body and kisses his forehead gently. "You keep your mouth shut, remember?"

Homelander snorts, "Yes, sir."

"Good lad," Billy responds, and makes his way back to his rightful place by Homelander's dick. He doesn’t put his hand back, just leans down and licks Homelander.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Homelander snaps his hips up. Billy raises his eyebrow.

"What, that's all it fuckin' takes?"

Homelander opens his mouth to retort, but then he hears it.

A bomb going off in William's school.

Homelander jumps up, shoving his dick into his pants. Billy frowns at him, leaning against the couch.

"Homelander?" Billy asks, cunning eyes burrowing into him.

But Homelander, heart thumping, has no time to talk to Billy. He punches his fist through the wall and is on his way.


	12. Becca And Mother's Milk Interlude

Becca can feel William's on her as she drives her son to school. Her hands are shaking on the steering wheel, and the only thing stopping her from falling into a full-blown panic attack is the mantra she repeats in her mind, over and over:

_You can trust Billy, you can trust Billy, you can trust Billy._

Billy has a plan, and it's a good one. She just needs to do her part, his friends will do theirs, and William and Billy will be ok. They will both be safe from Homelander.

"Mom," William says quietly as they reach the school. "They were screaming all night."

Becca closes her eyes. God, she'd never, not in her entire life, gone through such a horrific night. Being forced to sit there and listen to her husband lose his control over and over again, attacking a man that he had no chance of defeating. A man who could kill him with a flick of his wrist. It had been terrifying. She kept waiting for Homelander to lose his patience and hurt Billy, if not kill him.

But he hadn't. Homelander had just let Billy keep attacking him, once in a while bursting out into laughter but otherwise not saying anything loud enough for Becca to hear. Becca can't understand what Homelander thought of Billy. There's no way, is there, that he still thinks Billy is_ his_ after all these years?

She can remember, as though it were yesterday, the look of fury in Homelander's eyes when she'd called Billy her husband after he raped her. She'd never before seen such hatred. And hasn't seen it since. The possessiveness there was incredibly disturbing. It had made her question, just for half a second, if Billy really was hers.

"I know," Becca looks back at William, tapping her ear to remind him that Homelander is listening and to be careful what he says.

"Why?" William frowns. "Why does Billy hate Homelander so much? He's _Homelander_."

Yes, he is. Becca knows it was a mistake, to allow William to grow up believing, like all the other boys his age, that Homelander and the other superheroes are good and kind and should be admired. She had wanted to protect him from the fact that they aren't. But you could never truly protect your children forever, could you?

But before she has to answer that loaded question, the bomb goes off.

It shatters the glass of the fourth floor windows in the school (fourth floor is where the music classes are held, and those only happen in the afternoon, so the rooms should be empty, thank God), making it rain down on the cars underneath, including Becca's. The screaming starts with the loud boom and the debris that go flying into the air. But Becca, ignoring all the commotion, takes a deep breath and pushes the pedal hard, zooming out of the school parking lot.

"Mom!" William screams, scared and confused. " Where are you going, go back-"

"William, I need you to be quiet now," Becca snaps. The whole point of the bomb is to create so much noise and confusion, Homelander won't be able to tell where they are. William screaming will destroy the very slim chance they have. 

"But-"

"William! Quiet, please!" Becca swirls to avoid colliding with a car coming the other direction. "Please!"

Her son closes his mouth, tears prickling in his eyes. Becca wants to stop the car and hug him. But there's no time for comforting right now.

She drives at an insane speed and makes it to the motel she and Billy decided on in record time.

"What are we doing here?" William whispers as Becca slips out of the car.

Becca places her hand on William's shoulder and walks with him to the room Billy's reserved for them the night before. William sits down on the bed while Becca closes the drapes and settles into the space next to him.

"We're waiting for Billy to come get us," Becca replies and then takes a deep breath. "Listen, sweetheart, we need to talk."

William nods, "Ok."

"Ok," Becca agrees.

She takes another deep breath and starts.

"I know you must be mad at me, that I never told you the truth about your father. The thing is, baby, Homelander isn’t who you think he is. I know that everyone thinks he's a good guy, but he's not. He hurts people, and he hurt me. He hurts me very badly."

"How?" William asks in a soft voice.

Becca shakes her head, "It's not…not something a boy your age should know. I just need you to understand that you can't trust him."

"But you…I mean the two of you-" William made some vague movements with his hands. He blushes. "You_ made_ me."

"Oh, William," Becca hugs her son to her. "You shouldn't have to be thinking about these things, I wish I could protect you from this. I tried. I want you to know that I tried."

"He hurt you," William hugs her back. "While you made me."

"William-"

"I understand," Suddenly William sounds much older than his seven years. "Matt told me what sex is."

Closing her eyes, Becca kisses her son's forehead and hugs him close.

"Is that why Billy's so mad at Homelander?"

"It…yes, that's one of the reasons," Becca replies. "Homelander has done a lot of bad things to a lot of people. He's killed people and hurt people. And Billy's been trying to stop him and his friends."

"What, it's all of them?" William asks weakly.

"Yes," Becca feels like she's ripping her son's heart out of his chest. But it needs to be done. "All of them hurt people. You need to be careful around all of them."

"But-"

William is interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He jumps up and Becca's eyes fly open. She waits for a moment, then hears a second, shorter knock, and then a few second break before a third, longer knock. Satisfied, Becca gets up and opens the door.

"Hello, love," Billy stomps into the room. There's a fury in his eyes that Becca finds oddly unnerving. She reaches out to kiss Billy, but he pulls away.

"Bi-"

"Sorry," Billy mumbles to her, then kisses her cheek. Confused, Becca turns to see Billy walk over to William and lean down next to him.

"You all right there, lad?"

William nods.

"Billy," Becca wipes her eyes. "Are we leaving?"

Billy hesitates, then takes a deep breath and turns back to her, "You and William are. I'm stayin' here."

Her heart falls straight down to the floor, "No. No, you can't-"

"Homelander will be here any moment," Billy interrupts. "We don't have much time to argue. I'm stayin', and when he comes, I can distract him long enough to let you get as far as you can."

He's right, Becca realizes with horror. They need a second distraction. Becca clenches her fists, gathering her strength.

"Then I'll stay."

"What?" Billy glares. "No, that ain't happenin'. Becca-"

"If this work, and I can get away with William," Becca points out, somehow able to hear her mind actually screaming. "What then? I can't keep him safe out there. We’ll have to keep hiding, forever, and I'll never be able to do that. I don't know how to. I'm not a CIA agent, I haven't been hiding successfully from Homelander for eight years. You have. You can keep William safe."

"Becca, Homelander will hurt you, he will kill you if he finds you here alone," Billy says with urgency. "I ain't gonna let you get hurt."

"Stop," Becca cups Billy's cheeks in her hands and pulls him down to kiss his forehead. She can feel him tensing against her, but forces down the confusion and hurt that elicits in her. "Listen to me. We don't have the time to argue about this. William…he's the most precious thing here. We have to protect him. Please, Billy, if you ever loved me, protect my baby for me. I can’t."

"'Course I love you," Billy presses their foreheads together. Becca wants to cry; she's missed him so much. "More then you'll ever know."

"Then protect my son," Becca whispers. "Protect my baby."

Billy pushes away and nods. She can see the tears trickling down his eyes as he says, "All right, my love."

"Thank you," Becca closes her eyes.

"Mom-"

"William," Becca rushes over to her son and wraps him in her arms. "My baby."

"Please don't leave me, Mommy, please-"

"William," Becca leans down to look her son in the eye. She can see the fear and confusion swirling around in William's mind, and he looks at her as if she could make this all go away. "I need you to listen to me, we don't have a lot of time."

"M-"

"You need to go with Billy," Becca says hurriedly. "You need to go with him and listen to what he says. Promise me that you will do everything he tells you and trust him. Promise you won't listen to anyone else, no matter what they say. He will keep you safe."

"I don't want-"

"Promise me!" Becca yells, lightly shaking William. "Promise me, William."

"I promise," William's voice is choked. "I promise, Mommy."

"Thank you," Becca breathes out. "Thank you, baby."

"But why can't you come-"

"Because I can keep you safe better from here, and you're my son, and it's my job to keep you safe," Becca cups William's cheeks, just like she had just done with Billy. The two people she loves most in the world. "Because I love you, so much. Love you more than anything else. And I need you to remember that, ok? Remember that I love you, that I will always love you, no matter what happens. Promise me that, please?"

"I promise," William clenches her. "I promise."

"Billy," Becca breathes out. "I can't- I can't- take him. Please-"

"Come along, lad," Billy says gruffly, grabbing William around the waist and detaching him from Becca.

"No, wait-"

"I love you," Becca tries to smile at William as he lays, limp and shook, in Billy's arms. "I love you so, so much. Take care of him, Billy, please."

"I will," Billy says, and slams the door behind him.

It's only when she hears the car start and drive away that she allows herself to collapse onto the floor and burst into tears.

*

It takes Homelander half an hour to find her. Becca's not sure if that's a good or bad sign. Is that long, or short, for Homelander?

She's huddled into herself on the floor when the door flies open and crashes into the back of the room. She just flinches, barely moving, as Homelander's shadow appears at the open frame. He does look very impressive with his hands on his waist and his cape flying behind him. No wonder she had looked up to him so much once, so amazed to have a chance to work with him.

He looks perfect.

Until he moves into the room and she can see his face. Which is a horrific contortion of humanity. He's fury and hatred embodied, like his mask of normality has been slightly striped away and she can see the monster lurking underneath.

"_Where are they_?" Homelander roars, and Becca curls deeper into herself. She knew what she was doing when she had Billy take William. But now that it's here, Becca isn't sure she has the courage to accept what will happen to her.

Thank God she doesn’t actually know where Billy and William went. No matter what Homelander does to her, she can't betray her husband and son.

"Where. Are. They?" Homelander sneers, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her into the air. Becca gasps, trying to breath. Homelander glares at her and then throws her at the wall.

Becca screams in pain as her back hits the wall. Agony pulses through her like lightning, more powerful than anything she's felt before, with the exception of William's birth. But that had had a purpose- this is just pain.

She collapses into the ground, laid flat out and unable to move. Becca whimpers, trying to breathe. But the pain just intensifies when she does that, and Becca gasps.

"Oh, don't be such a fucking baby," Homelander snorts. "You don't have anything broken."

Becca screams as Homelander grabs her hair and shoves her up. She feels a darkness closing in on her, but Homelander slaps her hard enough to burst her lip and chase the darkness away.

"Oh, no, I need you awake," Homelander sneers into her ear. "Tell me where Billy took my son."

"I…don't…know," Becca gasps. "Didn't…tell…me…"

"Of course he didn't," Homelander rolls his eyes. "I should have known he won't be stupid enough to trust _you_ with information."

Becca whimpers, lungs on fire.

Homelander sighs and pats Becca's head a bit like you would a dog, and says, "I know Billy planned the bomb. But tell me, did he plan the part where he started giving me a blow job when the bomb went off?"

He's lying. He has to be lying. Billy wouldn't do that, he wouldn’t-

"Oh, you didn't know," Homelander grins, extremely pleased. "That part wasn't planed. Well, I hope your happy with yourself. Because when I get the two of them back, you won't be seeing William for a very, very long time. Now…."

Homelander places his hand on Becca's knee.

"I really need to hurt you."

Then he punches down on her knee, and Becca screams.

This- this is worse than William's birth.

*

"You look all right, MM."

Marvin just snorts, shifting a bit to make room for Butcher next to him on the park bench. He'd been more than a little surprised when, after ten days of silence, Butcher had written back to Marvin's emails asking (well, demanding, but Marvin is trying to be charitable. Why the fuck he bothers, he has no fucking idea) that they meet in a playground in the city. It seems that neither of them have managed to get away from New York yet.

Marvin glances at Butcher. He's dressed in a while polo shirt and blue jeans, and he's shaved and cut his hair. Suddenly, the man looks like a boring suburban father. It's fucking weird. 

"Glad you think so," Marvin grumbles. "Because I actually had a fucking terrible week. Being on the run from the police tends to do that to a man's moral."

Butcher just grins.

"Hughie and Frenchie are fine, by the way," He adds.

"That's good," Butcher says in a bored voice, but his shoulders relax a bit.

"So," Marvin clears his throat. "Where is he?"

Butcher gives him a searching look, then mutely points to the nearby basketball court where a group of young children are playing what _seems_ to be an attempt at pickup basketball. They don't really have a grasp on the rules, though, so they're mostly just running around holding the ball and tackling each other to the ground.

"What one is he?" Marvin asks, tilting his head to get a better look. He'd guess the tall one with brown hair who's currently pushing one of the other kids into the ground.

"Blond hair, green shirt, currently bein' pushed to the ground like a wanker."

"Huh," That's unexpected.

"Becca taught him to never use all his powers," Marvin isn't sure, but it almost sounds like there's some fondness in Butcher's voice. Marvin tries to imagine if his Monique was ever raped and got pregnant (fuck, that's a hard thing to think about without waning to break someone's neck). How would he feel about the baby?

Love the shit outta it. It would be Monique's. How could he not?

"If he like Becca?" Marvin asks.

"'Course he is," Butcher growls. "He's hers, ain't he?"

They sit in silence for a few moments before Marvin says, because he doesn’t know how to ease Butcher into this, "Mallory is dead."

Butcher breathes out sharply, "I ain't surprised."

Marvin, startled, blurts out, "_What_?"

"Homelander," Butcher says sharply. "He has it in for anyone I ever spoke to. I ain't gotta tell you-"

"That if Homelander gets close, we should hand ourselves to the police to stay outta his hands? Nah, you don’t need to tell us," Marvin says. Homelander's son jumps up to dunk the basketball- higher than normal kids his age should be able to do. But supe children aren't so rare as to get much of a reaction from the people around them.

"How d'you know about Mallory? Didn't see nothing on the news."

"Her daughter sent me a message about it. She found the body. Butcher, every bone in her body had been broken. The coroner said she was alive for most of it."

He waits for a reaction from Butcher, but all he gets in a small twitch of his eye.

"Frenchie's worried about Kimika," Marvin adds.

Butcher frowns, "Thought it was Kimi_ko_."

"Is it?"

"Think so."

"Huh."

Butcher shifts, "Tell him he has enough of his own fuckin' problems at the moment, yeah? Without worrying about his supe nutter."

"I ain't telling him anything like that."

"Bloody coward," Butcher rubs his forehead. "Look, there ain't nothin' we can do for her."

"Isn’t that what you told Hughie about Frenchie and me?"

Butcher glares.

"You know, Butcher, you're a really shitty friend."

"Yeah? Why you stickin' 'round, then?"

If he were honest, Marvin would say something like: because you're a fucking good person and all the worst things about you are there because you're a rape victim who blames himself not only for his own but his wife's rape as well.

Saying that outload will get him sucker punched, though, so instead Marvin says, "I have no fucking idea."

Butcher snorts, clearly pleased with the response, "I know Hughie'd get you out. Wouldn't have sent you the email otherwise. Thanks for the bomb, by the way."

"You're welcome. I'm always happy to blow up an elementary school for a friend."

"Ah, don't be like that! No one got hurt, did they?" The smile slips of Butcher's face. "Least, I think so."

Marvin swallows. He knows, from what Butcher wrote him, that he'd left Becca behind. Personally, he's almost proud of Butcher for letting Becca make that sacrifice for her son and for once putting someone else's wishes above his own. For choosing Becca's need to protect her son over his need to protect her.

"She wants her son to be safe," Marvin tells Butcher. "The most important thing is that you keep her son safe."

Butcher shakes his head, "I left for Homelander to find. I thought they'd both get away and I'd be with hi-"

He stops himself.

"Billy…"

"It don't matter now, do it?" Butcher says briskly. "What's done is done."

Well, Marvin knows when to shut the hell up.

"Did you hear about The Deep?" Butcher asks.

"What, that he dove into the ocean and hasn't been seen since? Yeah, I heard," Marvin clicks his tongue. "Vought's saying he's cleaning the ocean of pollution. His penance for the whole Starlight bullshit."

"Vought's got lots to deal with," Butcher notes. "A-Train hasn't been seen in a week."

"Probably didn't survive the heart attack."

"Yeah. What about Starlight?" Butcher asks.

"Hughie managed to convince her to stay at Vought as our informant."

"Good lad. Make sure you don't trust her too much, yeah?"

"I think she's genuinely on our side," Marvin replies. "But I never trust anyone completely."

"See, MM, that's why I like you."

Marvin smirks and leans backwards on the bench, "So, what now?"

"Now?" Butcher points at the basketball court. "Now we wait for our weapon to be ready."

"Our…you don't mean the _kid_."

"He's got all of his pop's powers, just can't control them yet."

"Butcher, he's seven!"

"Yeah, he is," Butcher snaps. "But he ain't gonna be one forever, is he? And what d'you want, another Homelander or someone who can bring him down?"

"I-" Marvin starts, but his words are swallowed up by the screaming.

Butcher and him turn, together. To see a beacon of red light shooting into the sky.

"Fuck! Shit!" Butcher jumps up and the two of them rush over to the basketball court. By the time they make it there, the laser beam has been shut off.

"I'm sorry!" The boy yells, curling into himself. "Billy, I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right," Butcher snaps, shoving the boy up into his arms.

"Did I hurt-"

"No one's hurt, now shut the fuck up," Billy demands, then turns to Marvin. "MM, you gotta get the fuck outta here."

"You can come with me-"

"Homelander will be coming to get William and me," Billy's eyes are wide and full of fear. "You don’t wanna be anywhere near us."

Marvin nods, and as he rushes out of the playground, he can see Billy shoving the boy into the back seat of a car and taking off.

He very much doubts he'll hear from Billy for a long time.


	13. The Penthouse: Part 1

Homelander is sitting in the penthouse when he sees it.

A red laser beam shooting into the sky. Homelander's eyes widen in surprise- no way. No fucking way this will be so easy. He's spent ten days looking for Billy and his son, and now he can see his own laser's beaming into the sky. Or well, William's.

"Oh, William," Homelander clicks his tongue and shoots into the sky. "You need to learn some control."

He'll work on that later on. Right now, he couldn't be more grateful for his son's lack of control.

The beam disappears from the sky pretty quickly, but not quickly enough for Billy to get away. Homelander manages to find its location before it's turned off, but the playground is already mostly empty, and Billy and William are nowhere to be seen. Hovering in the sky, Homelander lets his hearing expand. There are screams and confused yells, and the sounds of cars revving to go. He ignores those all, and then he hears it.

"Quiet, lad. We're all right."

Homelander breathes out, letting Billy's voice and his nearness calm him down. He swoops down, following the sound through a few streets and finally finding a black, old looking and entirely unremarkable car skirting into an alleyway (good choice, Billy. Smart). He lands on the road in front of the car, forcing it to come to a stop inches away from his feet, and grins.

"I guess I should give you props for sheer audacity," Homelander notes as he opens the car door. "Using the same trick twice. The bomb, I mean."

Billy takes a deep breath, "Ah. You remember meetin' Frenchie, then."

"Took me a while to remember, but yes," Homelander replies, remembering the French accented man he met while searching for Translucent. It only occurred to him a few days earlier that the explosion that had taken him away from his search of the man's car might have been planned. Billy's team is not stupid. It's annoying.

Billy rubs his eyes, "Nearly worked, didnit?"

"Yeah, it's smart," Homelander admits, motioning Billy out of the car. "It's really just luck that I found you two. Lucky for me William lost control of himself. I would have eventually found you, but-"

"Would you have, now?" Billy smirks and steps out of the car. "'Cause the way I remember it, you couldn't find _me_, and you had eight full years for that."

Homelander's jaw clenches, not enjoying the reminder. Instead of responding to that, Homelander opens the back door and grins at William. "Come on out, little man."

William stares up at him, unmoving. Homelander turns to look at Billy, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you break my son, Billy?"

"His mum told him to only do what I tell him," Billy sounds insanely satisfied about that. "He's a smart lad. Listens to his mum."

Well, despite how that came to be, it's probably good for Billy to be the disciplinarian between the two of them. Homelander will probably not be able to deny William anything. Still, he'll have to make sure William understands not to obey any of Billy's requests if they will help him slip out of Homelander's hands. _Again_.

"All right," Homelander rolls his head to Billy and motions to the car. "Can you ask our son to come out?"

"It's all right, William," Billy says quietly. "You can come out."

William jolts out of the car and zips under Homelander's arms, positioning himself in front of Billy. Billy wraps an arm around William in a protective fashion.

Well, if they're spent the time bonding, Homelander almost approves of the escape attempt.

Almost.

"Is Mom ok?" William asks, gasping Billy's arm with his little hands.

"I don't want you to worry about her anymore," Homelander says calmly. "You don't need her. You have me and Billy, now."

"Homelander-"

Homelander raises a hand to quiet Billy down.

"Becca is fine," Homelander tells them both. And that's more or less true. Well, she's _live_, at any rate. "And I'll let William talk on the phone to her in a month or two if he behaves."

He straightens up and looks at Billy, his dark hair contrasting with the golden plumage under him. Homelander reaches out to touch Billy's face, but he jerks away. Just this once, Homelander lets him. He's in too good a mood to be fighting.

"You, Billy, will never talk to Becca Saunders again. And you're getting a divorce."

"A month?" William asks in a small voice as Billy closes his eyes.

"If you behave," Homelander reminds him. "That means following the rules. For one, you call her Becca. No more 'mom'."

He spits out the word like a curse. It makes William wince and huddle closer into Billy. Homelander smiles, trying to calm him down.

"Sorry, bud," He rubs William's hair. "But like I said, you don't need her. You have Billy. And you have me. You like Billy, right?"

"Homelander," Billy snaps. "She's his _mum_. Young lads need their mums."

"You didn't have yours," Homelander reminds him. "And neither did I."

Billy looks away, "I thought you wanted somethin' better for him then what we got."

William looks from Billy to Homelander, hope and fear warring for dominance on his face.

Clearing his throat, Homelander says, "Maybe in a month. Depends on how you behave."

"Thank you," Billy says quietly, clutching William to him.

"But my rule is none negotiable," Homelander warns. "If I hear you call her 'mom' once, you won't talk to her. And you, Billy- you're not talking to her no matter what."

"Yeah, that ain't surprising," Billy mumbles. "She thought we won't meet again. So she charged me with watchin' over the lad for her. I intend to do so."

Billy glares up.

"I ain't gonna let you hurt him."

"I'm not going to," Homelander promises, understanding what Billy is really saying: that he, Billy, won't hurt William. It's a plea to allow the two of them to stay together. "You'll see."

That seems to satisfy Billy, and he relaxes a bit.

"I have something for you," Homelander says, taking out Billy's necklace and slips it over Billy's neck.

Billy glares down at the necklace and says, "Why. Why d'you still have this? I threw it away years ago."

"I took it out of the garbage," Homelander replies.

"How did you know it was in the bin?"

"I saw it," Homelander says. "It has a camera on it. Keep it on."

"No fuckin'-"

"Now, let's get back home," Homelander says cheerfully. "Can you fly yet, William?"

Willian nods, "But not as fast as you."

"That's fine," Homelander takes hold of Billy and hoists him over his shoulder. "I'll teach you."

He has so much to teach his son.

*

"This can be your room," Homelander says, steering William towards the smaller of the two libraries. Honestly, at some point while he was redoing the penthouse he'd just randomly told Vought what to put in every space, trying to fill up as many empty rooms as he could. The penthouse is huge. He'd wanted it that way. He just hadn't considered he'd need to find a _use _for forty rooms.

With most of his apartments, Homelander would have just left the decision to the Vought workers. But the penthouse had always been meant for him and Billy, so it deserved his personal attention.

The problem is that Homelander never anticipated there would be a _third _person living with them, so there isn't exactly a guest room to put William in.

The second library, though, has a black leather couch and is located in front of Billy and Homelander's rooms on the second floor of the penthouse. It's also large enough for a kid's room (he'll clear out the TV room next to the second library and turn it into a game room for William later), so he'll put William there.

"I know you don't have anything with you, but I've got a tooth brush and paste for you to use," Homelander puts both on the coffee table next to sofa. "We'll get you everything you need later on, ok, bud?"

"Ok," William mumbles. Sitting down on the sofa, he huddles into himself, hugging his school bag.

"You'll be all right, then?" Homelander leans on the door frame, keeping one eye on Billy, who he's locked in their bedroom. Billy is conducting a thorough search of the room, stopping to curse every time he comes across something of his Homelander picked up from his apartments.

It's amusing all hell. Billy has no idea how much of his life is already under Homelander's protection.

William shrugs, "Can Billy come?"

"In a bit," Homelander promises. "But first Billy and I need to have an adult conversation. Just the two of us. So, no eavesdropping, ok, little man?"

He taps his ear for emphasis. William nods.

"Attaboy," Homelander ruffles William's hair before locking him in the library and unlocking the bedroom door.

He finds Billy standing over the coffee table that's settled in front of the huge fire place and TV. It's hard to see the heavy glass table over all the items Billy has placed on it. It's all of Billy's possessions that he's managed to find in the few minutes Homelander left him alone. And that's just in their suite area.

"Why. The. Fuck. D'you. Have. My. Shite."

Billy doesn’t even make it into a question.

Homelander decides to answer it anyways. He flies over to Billy and settles down on the red velvet sofa in front of the fireplace. Taking off his boots and gloves he says, "I went to your place after you disappeared. Eight years ago, I mean."

Rubbing his face, Billy growls, "Why's there two offices?"

"One's for you," Homelander explains slowly, feeling a bit like Billy's being slow on purpose. He points to the door to the left. "That one."

Billy opens his mouth, eyes wide, the closes it again, "How…how long ago did you move here, then?"

"A few weeks after you and Becca moved," Homelander replies. "It's much closer to that apartment then it was to your old one."

"You're a fuckin' nutter," Billy whispers, shaking his head. His eyes are wide, and he's staring at the ground like he's not entirely sure what's going on around him. "You've lost your bloody marbles."

"That's a weird way to say thanks," Homelander replies. And then notices something that sends a jolt of fury down his spin. "Billy, where's your necklace?"

Billy smirks up at him, "Why'd you care?"

"I want you to wear it."

"And if I ain't interested?"

"You used to love it," Homelander says quietly. "You kept wearing it even after you left me."

Billy looks away, "And then I learned what a cunt you are."

"Ouch. Where's the necklace, Billy?" Homelander repeats. There's a part of him that's a bit worried that Billy has flushed it down the toilet or something.

But then Billy's eyes turn to the glass table and Homelander sees the necklace laying on it. He sighs and moves over to pick it up.

"I’ll keep it for now, but you're putting it on soon," He warns.

Billy's expression grows hard and he looks up, snapping, "Where's William?"

"In his room. Later, we can go online shopping to get the things he needs-"

"Why later? Why not now?"

"Because, Billy," Homelander throws the gloves on the floor and stands up. "There are a few things I want to show you."

He raises his hand for Billy.

"Come on, pal."

Billy doesn’t move.

"You want to see William? Then take my hand."

Taking a deep breath, Billy does.

Satisfied, Homelander reels him in and hoists him up, perching Billy on his hip with Homelander's arm around him to keep him securely in place. Billy let out an affronted yelp and starts to struggle.

"Put me-"

"Don't fight me on this," Homelander whispers in his ear. "I was denied you for eight years. I want- I _need_\- I need to have you as close as possible. Do you understand? I need you. I need you so badly. I want you to see William, but you can only get that if you let me have you."

Billy swallows, but stops fighting.

"Good choice," Homelander praises, kissing Billy on the forehead. "Now, come on."

First, he takes Billy over to the floor to ceiling windows that make up one entire wall of the bedroom. He taps the glass lightly and then taps Billy on the nose. Billy responds by biting his finger. He lets go when Homelander shakes him hard.

"Ouch," Homelander complains before turning back to the glass. "So. Bullet proof glass, one way. From outside, it's one huge mirror. So no one but me can see what goes on in here. All the windows in the penthouse are like this. Not that I'd recommend somehow breaking the windows- I guess William could. How would you get down, hmm? We're on the hundredth and fifty seventh floor."

"William could fly me down," Billy replies.

"Could he? Hmm," Homelander clicks his tongue and squeezes Billy's ass. "I don't think he's got enough control yet for that."

"That so?"

"But of course, if you do that and disappear, Becca will die," Homelander tilts his head in thought. "Probably should have opened with that."

"If you touch her-"

"Billy, from this moment on, what happens to Becca Saunders is under your control," Homelander says quietly, cupping Billy's cheek with his hand and turning his head so they're looking each other right in the eye. "If you leave me again, she will die. If you get hurt, she will get hurt. If you fight me, and I have to bruise your wrists to stop you, I will break hers. And_ obviously_, she isn't in her house anymore. And I'm not going to tell you where she is, so not point planning any heroic rescues. Clear?"

"How do I know she's still alive?" Billy replies, jerking his head away. "How d'I know she ain't already brown bread?"

"She's not dead, Billy. Don't you trust me?"

Billy doesn’t even reply to that.

Homelander rolls his eyes, "William will talk to her-"

"In two months. Lots can happen in two months."

Fuck. Ok, that one's on him.

"I'll let William call Becca when we're done with the tour."

Billy smirks. He's never been a gracious winner. God, Homelander fucking loves him so much. He shives slightly and moves on. They leave the master suite and Homelander starts the tour.

On the second floor, he shows Billy the indoor pool that leads to a sauna and gym, but that doesn't get the reaction he was looking for. He'd thought Billy would like that part of the penthouse (that's why he'd started the tour there). But Billy just stares at the clear blue water and says dryly, "Yes, very impressive."

Homelander discreetly rolls his eyes to the doomed ceiling (it's painted to look like an ocean) and continues.

He shows Billy the two kitchens, the three dining rooms, the movie theatre, the games room (he's finally be able to play pool with Billy), the huge library (he's not entirely sure _what_ books they have in there, just that there are a thousand five hundred of them, so there should be _something_ Billy will like), the few random offices (the one next to the den could probably be made into William's) and on and on and on. They end in the largest den, which is probably Homelander's favourite room.

The room is entirely covered in a thick carpet that muffles the sound of Homelander's feet as he makes his way to one of the huge white sofas and settles Billy down on it. He watches as Billy looks around, taking in the huge chandelier, the golden walls and Romanticism style paintings etched into it, the Greek statues of naked women (he doesn't want Billy around sculptures of strange naked _men_), the bust of Homelander's head he got from Vought's offices, the huge mirror and various pieces of furniture made with leopard skin.

"The fuck is this?" Billy snaps. "A lavender's room?"

Says a man who enjoys nothing more then having a dick in him. But before Homelander can point that out, Billy keeps talking.

"You showed me, now take me to William."

"Almost there, buddy, promise," Homelander takes Billy's hand and gently tugs him out of the room to the entrance hall. He walks over to the huge metal door at the end of it.

"This goes outside, then?" Billy asks.

"Yup, and this is how you open it," Homelander points to the panel on the right. "My finger print. You used to be able to get into the penthouse if you're let in with my phone, but I've changed it now. It's only my finger print that can let people through this door. Oh! Before I forget, there's a second door behind this one, and you can only get up here by using a private elevator. And you've probably guessed this already, but I have cameras all over the penthouse. So I'll know what you're up to even when I'm not here."

He wraps his arms around Billy from behind and pulls him against his chest.

"So, that's our home," He whispers into his ear. "What do you think?"

"This ain't my home," Billy growls and tries to push away from Homelander. "Let go, wanker."

"Hmm," Homelander hums and kisses Billy's neck a few times as he tries to move away. "No, I don't think I will. And yes, it is. I had this place built just for you."

Billy stills, "You're mad. A bloody _nutter_."

Homelander kisses Billy's earlobe.

"I fuckin' left you!"

"And here you are, back with me," Homelander replies, smug. "And I always knew you would."

"I hate you," Billy says bitterly.

"I know, buddy," Homelander sighs. "I know."

But he also knows Billy loves him, so he can live with the rest.

Homelander takes the necklace out of his pocket and slips it on Billy. This time, Billy doesn't take it off.

*

"He-"

"Mom!" William grasps the phone in his hand. He's seated on the couch in the library. Billy is seated on the chair in front of him, and Homelander's got his hand over Billy's mouth to stop him from speaking. The phone is on speaker, and Homelander knows Billy better then to expect him to keep quiet when he hears Becca's voice.

"William!" Unaspiringly, Billy starts wiggling when he hears Becca's voice. He takes hold of Homelander's arm and tries to shove him off. Homelander places his free hand on Billy's shoulder to keep him more firmly in place. "Oh, baby, where are you?"

"I'm-" William looks up at Homelander.

"He's with me, Becca," Homelander says, leaning his chin on Billy's head.

"Oh, God…" Becca groans. "Oh, God, no."

"Calm down, William is fine," Homelander reassures. "Aren't you, bud?"

"William, is Billy-"

"He's here, he's ok," William brushes a few stray tears away from his face, which makes Billy twitch. It's like he's trying to reach William. "It wasn't his fault that we were caught. I lost control, Mommy."

"No, baby, I know it wasn't," Becca hiccups into the phone. Homelander can imagine her, laying in her bed in a prison hospital in Serbia, most of her body covered in casts. He'd broken her spine, she'll never walk again. She'll spend the rest of her life in a small cell with five other inmates. Should be fun.

Well, that's what happens when the Russian government finds you with a cell that's preparing to kill the Russian President.

"It was my fault-"

Billy shakes his head, and Becca says, "No. William, it wasn't your fault. Do you hear me? It wasn't."

"Where are you, Mom? Can…can you come?"

"I…not- not right now," Becca whispers. "I'm sorry. But you remember what you promised?"

"Yeah," William sobs. "I'll listen to Billy."

"Tell him I love him, please-"

William screams as Homelander swoops in and crushes the phone in his fist. He's forced to let go of Billy to do that, and Billy immediately jumps up, rushing over to William and hiding the boy's face in his chest. While Homelander shakes with fury, Billy whispers soothing words into William's ear, calming him down.

"It's al right, lad. She's all right."

"I want her."

"Can't have her," Billy says bluntly and looks up at Homelander in time to watch him open his fist and let the broken phone pieces fall down to the floor. "Need you to buck up now, yeah?"

"I'm scared," William whispers.

"What of?" Billy snorts. "I ain't lettin' nothin' get near you."

"Well," Homelander says brightly. "That was fun. Who wants dinner?"

*

He leaves the penthouse, reluctantly, after dinner. He hadn't let the chef into the penthouse, not wanting Billy to see anyone other then him and the boy. So Billy had cooked, which was better anyways. Homelander had missed Billy's cooking. He'd made a lasagna and mashed potatoes, and set the table for two.

"What about me?" Homelander had asked, amused, as he came into the kitchen and saw the two of them sitting.

"Ain't doin' nothin' for you, fucker," Had been Billy's smooth response. He hadn't even looked up. His words had made William go stiff, so Homelander had laughed and shuffled the boy's hair.

"We shouldn’t fight in front of our son," Homelander had chided Billy, and got his own plate.

He leaves Billy and William in the large library, where William sits reading and Billy sits…waiting. Seated in front of William, eyes scanning the room back and forth, he looks exactly the same as he did when, as a CIA agent, he would go into suspects' houses. Like he's ready for a bomb to go off at any second.

Homelander flies through the city sky, reaching on the landing pad in Vought Tower in a matter of seconds. He makes his way inside, ignoring Black Noir and a few Vought workers who smile at him politely, and goes straight to Mr. Edger's office.

Mr. Edger looks up when Homelander comes in. He's been reading a memo, but puts it down when he sees who's come calling and laces his fingers together, leaning backwards on his chair.

"Homelander," He says in that annoying accent of his. The man isn't even _American,_ what the fuck is he doing ordering Homelander around? "I didn't realize we had an appointment."

"What, I can't just drop by to say hello anymore?" Homelander raises his hands, waltzing into the room and closing the door behind him.

"No," Mr. Edger says bluntly. "You have never done so before and I don't expect you're starting now. I heard you sent your chef away today before he could make your diner. His cooking not to your taste?"

It annoys Homelander that Mr. Edger knows that. He wonders if it's the chef or maybe the doorman who gave Mr. Edger this information. He'll have to figure it out later.

"I won't be needing him anymore," Homelander replies, going over to the windows. "My husband will cook for me from now on."

"Your husband?" Mr. Edger raises an eyebrow. "Ah. William Butcher."

"Hmm," Homelander keeps his eyes out the window.

"Technically, you're not married."

"Well, you can fix that, can't you? Make all records of his previous marriage vanish, get us a marriage certificate from around twelve years ago?"

"Why would I do that?" Mr. Edger asks, sounding genuinely curious. But it's sometimes hard to know with him.

"Don't you know what happened to the last Vought worker who tried to keep me away from him?"

Mr. Edger drums his fingers on his desk, "You are referring to Madelyn."

Homelander snaps his fingers at the man, "Righty-oh."

"Well, I am afraid that I am not Madelyn," Mr. Edger says quietly. "And I would recommend you do not take such…_precautions_ with me. There are things that will be set in motion if I die that you would not enjoy."

"Hmm. That sounds a bit like a threat," Homelander muses.

"If that is how you choose to see it."

Homelander smirks, "If you're talking about my son, William isn't under your control anymore. He's under mine."

Mr. Edger's heart jumps a bit, but only a bit- he has something else.

"That is disappointing," Mr. Edger sighs. "But that will not make it safe for you to kill me."

"What else do you have?" Homelander asks.

Mr. Edger smiles, "Forgive me if I choose not to tell you. Besides, I would much rather the two of us not be at odds with each other. You are a valuable commodity to Vought, and I run Vought. We should be on the same page. You are interested in going public with your relationship, and I am interested in you preforming your duties as leader of the Seven. We can help each other, yes?"

Homelander pushes away from the window and leans against Mr. Edger's table, "I'm sick and tired of your _promises_. If you want something from me, you give me something in return."

Mr. Edger sighs, "Yes, I understand. But do _you_ understand that I cannot allow you to announce a husband to the public at a moment's notice? We need time to prepare for this. Ease the public identity of the Seven away from fundamental Evangelical Christians-"

"We don't need to do that," Homelander shakes his head. "We just need to make it clear to them that what I say takes precedence over what they thing God or Jesus say."

"I see," Mr. Edger frowns, thinking. "Well, that might actually be somewhat easier, if not more delicate. We've built a rather effective cult around you; it would not take much to shift the focus a bit. But you will need to give us time for that."

"How long?"

"At least two years-"

"No, that's too long," William will be nine by then. Homelander wants to show him off when he's still as cute as he is now. "I'll give you six months."

"A year and a half?"

"A year."

"Very well," Mr. Edger nods. "In exactly a year we will unveil your family."

"Good," Homelander straightens up.

"Oh, and one last thing," Mr. Edger raises a finger. "Mr. Butcher has been quite the thorn on our side these past few years. If he's going to be your public partner, he's going to have to be presentable. I need to know if we'll be able to control him."

"You?" Homelander snorts. "Oh, no. You can't control Billy."

"In that case-"

"_I _will," Homelander interrupts.

"You can control him?"

"I'll be able to control him in public," Homelander promises. It will take some work, but he'll get there. Billy will have to be controlled when outside the penthouse.

Inside it, though, Homelander will do nothing to control Billy's behavior.

What would be the fun in that?


	14. The Penthouse: Part 2

Homelander locks Billy and William in the master suite while he lets in the builders. They work for eighteen hours straight, converting the library into a boy's room with a closet, large bed styled like a sport's car, a desk, a few bean bags, shelves, a huge trunk full of toys (Homelander had taken a few bags of marbles from Vought, so William now has every single supe marble, three times over) and a few other items he thinks William might like. The library already has an attached bathroom (most of the rooms do), so he leaves that mostly untouched. But he has the workers attach the room on the left to the library, which he'll turn into a game's room later on. There's a limit to the amount of time he'll let people be in his penthouse while Billy is there. 

William's bedroom walls are wet from the new paint that was applied to them, so he can't move William there quite yet. Shame. He'd like some time alone with Billy in bed.

When the workers are finally shown to the door (with a grin and threat- he can't have them tattling about his son) it's around three in the afternoon. He can hear William's stomach rumbling from the hallway, and fuck. He forgot to feed them. Homelander stops, listening, but he can't hear Billy's stomach.

Homelander bites his lip to supress his anger. Billy is used to not eating for long stretches of time. He's not even hungry yet. Suddenly Homelander regrets killing Grace Mallory. He wants to do it again.

"Hi, guys," Homelander announces himself as he walks into the master suite. William peeks through the light white curtains on the elevated round bed. His eyes are red and puffy from tears, and Homelander had to suppress the urge to grab him by the neck and shake him. What the hell does this kid have to complain about? He's finally with his father, where he belongs, and he's just got a room most boys his age would kill for. "Anyone hungry?"

William nods as Billy comes out of the bathroom and leans against the wall. His hair is wet and dripping down to his white shirt. He looks so handsome Homelander's mind short-circuits for a second.

"You're a few bloody hours late," Billy sneers. "The lad's starvin'."

"Sorry, William," Homelander says, but he finds it impossible to give William any attention right now. He can't look away from Billy.

Unable to stop himself, and in all honesty not really trying, Homelander flies over to Billy and cups his cheek. Billy glares at him, pushing him away.

"Billy…"

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Billy growls, eyes flicking to William, who's watching with wide eyes.

Sighing, Homelander turns to William and asks, smiling, "Hi, bud, can you get Billy and Daddy a moment? You can go…get something from the kitchen. And then head over to the games room, there's an X-box and PlayStation there. Ok?"

"I-" William looks over at Billy, who's plastered himself against the wall.

"Billy will be fine," Homelander promises, leaning over to whisper into Billy's ear. "Won't you, buddy?"

"William, get the bloody fuck outta here," Billy pushes away from Homelander again.

The boy doesn't wait to be told twice. Well, thrice. He jumps off the bed and flies out of the room. As soon as the door closes behind him, Homelander lets his smile fall away and grabs Billy's wrists, pulling him flush against his body.

"Let-"

"Shut up, Billy," Homelander noses at Billy's neck as he tries to pull his hands free. "I'm a bit upset with you right now."

"Are you?"

"Ah-ha," Homelander twirls Billy around, draping an arm around his waist so he's trapped with his back against Homelander's chest. "You shouldn't have run away from me, Billy."

Billy stills, "What did…what did you do to Becca?"

"What, now you're worried about her?" Homelander snorts. "After you left her, all alone?"

That makes Billy try to pull away again, "Fuck you."

"Do you want me to?" Homelander places his nose in Billy's black locks and inhales, closing his eyes as he automatically relaxes. "Do you want me to fuck you? Because I'll fuck you, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for days-"

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'll fuck you in the bed, I'll fuck you in the hot tub-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"I'll fuck you on the floor, I'll fuck you-"

But Billy's had enough. He lets out a sharp scream and headbutts Homelander from behind. Hard enough to make the man lose his balance and stumble forward slightly. Homelander uses that moment to raise Billy up into his arms in a bridal carry.

"Oh, Billy," Homelander shakes his head. "That was a mistake."

Billy blinks, then glares at Homelander, "Put me the fuck down."

Homelander shrugs and complies, setting Billy down and saying, "Remember what I told you about Becca?"

Billy's eyes close briefly, and when they open they're full of a fire that Homelander is a bit shocked isn't burning the penthouse down. It does send a jolt right down to his dick, though.

"Don't you dare touch her," Billy warns.

Homelander smiles at Billy fondly, "I told you, I warned you. Show me your head."

Billy shakes his head, "I'm all right."

"Show me your head, Billy, so I can see how badly I need to hurt Becca."

"No," Billy takes a few steps backwards. "Don't. Don't hurt her-"

"If I have to hurt her, that will be on you," Homelander reminds him, gently. "I warned you that if you get hurt, she'll get hurt. But you let yourself get hurt anyways. It's not my fault."

He reaches for Billy and twists him around, gently touching Billy's skull. There's a small bump there, but it's nothing serious.

"I'll just choke her, I think," He decides, and Billy shivers.

"Don’t. Please don't-"

"Shh," Homelander hushes, pulling Billy with him into the bathroom. He positions Billy in front of the huge mirror and takes off his gloves. Billy has closed his eyes, standing stiffly in place as if he's trying to transport himself away. Homelander reaches down to Billy's fly, and the man's eyes fly open.

"No," Billy tells Homelander's reflection. "Take your filthy paws_ off_."

"Is that really what you want?" Homelander questions, pulling Billy's flaccid dick out. Billy shivers, and doesn’t reply, or try to move away. He just closes his eyes again.

Homelander grins and kisses the side of Billy's head, playing with Billy's balls, weighing them in his palm and rolling them back and forth. Billy buckles backwards, his breath hitching slightly. He keeps his eyes firmly shut, denying Homelander the view of his beautiful blues being overtaken by black as his pupils blow up in lust.

"Open your eyes, Billy," He whispers into his ear, but Billy just shakes his head. "Come on, for me?"

"I ain't doin' shite for you, you cunt."

"Stubborn, stubborn," Homelander clicks his tongue, continuing to play with Billy's balls. Billy grits his teeth together, his cheeks growing red.

He moves up to Billy's dick, gently rubbing the tip with his palm. It makes Billy gasp, unable to hold the voices inside anymore. But he still keeps his eyes closed, his stubborn little mind not allowing him to open them. That will take some more work.

"I wish you'd open your eyes," Homelander whispers into his ear before biting it lightly. "So you could see yourself, how beautiful you are right now, trying to hold yourself together, when all you want is to move into my hold, to whimper and scream for me to take you. Isn't that what you want, Billy?"

"No," Billy grits out. "I want you to fuck off."

"Open your eyes, buddy," Homelander grips Billy's dick hard in his hand.

"Leave my mickeys the _fuck_ alone."

"All right, all right," Homelander hoists Billy closer to his chest, forcing him to stand on his tip toes as Homelander begins pumping his dick with gusto.

Its takes around ten minutes, but eventually Billy lets out a choked sob, knees buckling as he grows hard. Pleased, Homelander grins at the mirror, but his amusement quickly slips away. Billy is shivering in his hands, face and neck red and flushed, tears trickling down his closed eyes. Billy isn't amusing anymore, he's lust personified.

"Billy," Homelander groans. "Fuck, Billy, do you know how fucking beautiful you are? You don't, do you? You don't know how much I need you, how much I want to fuck you right now. I don't know how I survived so long without you."

By this point Billy is nearly fully hard, his heart rate thumping against Homelander's chest, and he can feel his pulse against his nose where it's resting on Billy's neck and against his hand where it grips Billy's dick.

"Please let me see your eyes, your beautiful, beautiful eyes," Homelander murmurs, leaving love bites on Billy's neck. "Please?"

"Fuck the fuck off," Billy responds eloquently, sounding like he's finding it hard to breath.

"Come on, you're close, aren't you?" Homelander mumbles, biting hard into Billy's neck, making Billy hiss out in pain. "I want you to see yourself when you come, to know how beautiful you are. I want you to understand what you do to me."

"N-no," But there's no strength in his voice anymore, and Homelander can smell his orgasm building.

He takes his hand off Billy's rock hard dick, watching it stick out in front of them. Billy lets a sound of dissatisfaction and reaches out. blindly, to take his own dick in hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," Homelander clicks his tongue, moving swiftly to take hold of Billy's hands, trapping them in place. "No touchy."

Billy growls, thrusting backwards, "Then get the bloody job done."

"Open your eyes for me, and I will," Homelander purrs. "Come on, pal. Open your eyes for me."

"No. No!"

"Really?" Homelander sighs, running his fingers up and down Billy's chest and stomach, stopping right before the one place Billy really wants him to touch and going back up again. "Because you're _really_ hard, pal. I can smell it in the air. It must be painful."

"Fuck _off_," Billy's head rolls backwards to rest on Homelander's shoulder.

"Billy…" Homelander sing-songs, rocking Billy back and forth. "I can help you…."

Billy whimpers, withering in what must be delicious agony. But Billy had never liked being denied orgasms. It's not one of his kinks. It just makes him angry, and desperate.

"Come on, pal. The only thing you need to do is open your eyes, that's all I'm asking," Homelander begs. "That's all I need. Is that so much?"

"Yes, fucker!"

"It's just the two of us here," Homelander whispers. "No one else, no one will know what happens here. It's just me, it's John. Don't you trust me? Come on…open your pretty, pretty eyes…"

He's not sure what finally does it, but by the time he quiets down again, Billy lets out a hysterical laugh and his eyes fly open. Their pupils are blown out, leaving nearly no blue left to be seen.

"There they are," Homelander coos, meeting Billy's eyes in the mirror. "Was that really that hard?"

Billy grits his teeth as Homelander leans down to lick the salty tears running down his cheeks. Time to give Billy his reward. He takes Billy's dick in his hand and goes back to pumping it.

Billy groans, buckling forward, his whole body shivering, and comes, splashing come all over the mirror.

"There you go," Homelander sighs and cuddles Billy in his arms. "That was good, wasn't it?"

"I will fuckin' destroy you," Billy mumbles into Homelander's neck. "Don't know how yet, but mark my fuckin' words. One day I'll _destroy_ you."

"Shh," Homelander wraps an arm around Billy's back, pulling him into an embrace as Billy clings to his neck. "It's ok, it's ok. Shh."

But Billy hiccups and Homelander can suddenly feel tears hitting his neck.

"No, no, Billy, don't cry," Homelander whispers, caressing his hair. "There's nothing wrong with getting pleasure."

"Ain't there?" Billy groans.

"No, there isn't," Homelander gently kisses Billy's forehead before starting to undress him. That makes Billy let out a string of curses and try to wiggle out of Homelander's hold. "Calm down, calm down, we both need a bath, that's it."

"Don’t- let me go to William-"

Homelander rolls his eyes to the golden doomed ceiling and sheds the rest of Billy's clothes, "That's a good trick, Billy. But you've overplayed it a bit. William will be _fine_, and you're not going anywhere near him until I'm done with you."

Billy glares at him while he's lowered into the huge tub, but he stays in place while Homelander takes his suit off and slips into the tub after him.

"You pissed? You think I'm goin' to sit here-"

"I can keep you away from William for as long as I want," Homelander opens the hot water taps. "For hours, for days, for weeks, for months. And if you don't want that to happen, come here."

He pats his naked lap.

It takes a second, but then Billy takes a deep breath and comes over.

"Good boy."

Billy glares at him at that, "I ain't a fuckin' _dog_."

"Hmm, that's true," Homelander places an open palm over Billy's stomach, right above his belly button, and starts to move it in gentle circles, up and down. Billy shuffles forwards on Homelander's lap, so, unfortunately, his ass isn't anywhere near Homelander's crouch, but closer to his knees. Homelander lets him go, though, in far too good a mood to fight Billy over- well, anything, really, and picks up the bar of soap from the side of the tub without moving. "Though you do like it doggy- style."

Billy makes an odd noise at that, a bit like his mouth is trying to both snort in amusement and scream in fury at the same time, and he hunches his shoulders when Homelander starts to scrub him, slowly but surely cleaning off days on the run from his skin.

Billy's body is covered in sweat from their earlier activities, and what looks like dried mud, dirt and…is that blood? Homelander sniffs at the spot on Billy's lower back. Yeah, that's blood.

"Jeez, Billy," Homelander snorts. "What have you been up to?"

"Runnin' from you. Thought it was obvious."

Rolling his eyes, Homelander leans his chin on Billy's shoulder, "Yeah, that part was. But…why do you have blood on you?"

"Hmm?" Billy frowns, and then grins. "Ah, there was a skunk in our motel room. Went a bit mad when William tried to pet it, the little bugger."

"Jesus."

"Eh, killed him," Billy shrugs.

"But you got hurt," Homelander turns back to Billy's back, trying to find any wound. "See, if you hadn't run away you wouldn't have-"

"I didn't get bloody hurt, you nutter," Billy sneers in response. "The blood's from that creature. I killed it."

"Oh," Homelander frowns, and leans backwards to keep lathering Billy's back with soap. "I guess I shouldn’t be surprised."

"No, you shouldn't," Billy snaps, and finally he seems to have had enough. He slides off Homelander and swims all the way to the other side of the bathtub. "It's one more bloody reason you've gotten everythin' bloody topsy-turvy in your mind. I ain't needin' you wanker to protect me, and I ain't wanting it, either."

*

After getting Billy and William fed, Homelander brings a tailor into the apartment to take their measurements. He doesn’t want William and Billy wearing these rags they have on anymore. Still, he needs to bite his lip and clench his hands together to stop himself from surging forward and ripping the fucker's head off as he touches Billy all over to take his measurements. The only thing keeping him in place is the fact that Billy himself doesn’t seem particularly pleased with being touched.

When it's over and the man leaves them in the den (looking and smelling incredibly scared. Good, he should be), Billy grabs a drink of whiskey from the bar and turns to look at him, spitting out, "And why the _fuck_ did you do that?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious," Homelander raises an eyebrow. "I ordered you clothes, and the tailor needs-"

"Why," Billy says slowly, sounding very much like he's holding back a scream. "Are you gettin' us clothes? What are you plannin'?"

Homelander decides there isn't really much of a point in hiding his plans, "I talked to Vought people, and we've decided that in a year we'll be going public with our relationship."

The glass shatters on the floor.

"Jesus!" Homelander jumps up from his seat and hovers over to Billy, grabbing his hand to make sure he's not hurt. He's not, thank fuck. Homelander really can't handle more of that. "What was that for?"

"You…fucker…." Billy seems entirely shook. "Me wife is-"

"Stop," Homelander says sharply. "I'm sick of hearing you talking about that bitch. I swear to God if you don't shut up about _Becca fucking Saunders_ I'm just going to-"

"What? You're gonna what?" Billy sneers. "What can you threaten me with no more? You took me freedom, you took Becca-"

"I can take William," Homelander replies. He's sick of this game between him and Billy, the one where Billy keeps pretending that Becca is as important as he is, as if she could ever replace Homelander, as if Homelander isn't the only one for him. "I can keep William locked in his rooms and not let him anywhere near you or anyone else. How about that?"

Billy's eyes widen and he goes slack, allowing Homelander to maneuver him carefully away from the broken glass. He sits down on the sofa and pulls Billy into his lap, holding him until he's calmed down. Billy just sits there, unmoving, and allows himself to be cuddled. He doesn't even stir when the double doors open and William sneaks in.

"Hi there!" Homelander grins and waves William over to sit down next to them. William scratches the back of his head and obeys.

"Done?" Billy growls in the end when Homelander eases his hold on Billy's arms, and promptly jumps off.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," Homelander sighs, watching Billy go to sit next to William. His fingers are playing with his necklace, seemingly unconsciously. It makes a warm feeling go down Homelander's spine.

"Doin' what?" Billy asks as William crawls into his lap, hiding his face in Billy's shoulder.

"Why don't you just let me love you?"

"Fuck off."

"Because I know you love me," Homelander continues.

"I don’t fuckin' love you, wanker."

"You told me you do."

"I lied," Billy looks up at the ceiling.

"Sure you did," Homelander snorts and stands up. He walks over to Billy and William and runs his hand through Billy's hair, making him jerk backwards in clear disgust. Rolling his eyes, Homelander leans in and whispers in his ear, "Don't lie to me, Billy."

Homelander tires kissing Billy's forehead, but the man pushes away, standing up and letting William hug his waist.

"Stop it," Billy whispers. "Why don't you just fuckin' _leave_ it?"

"You mean you? No, I can never leave you," Homelander replies.

But Billy just shakes his head and escapes with William.

Homelander decides to leave the two of them alone for the rest of the evening, letting Billy calm down slightly. Instead he just sits in the den and watches through the walls as Billy sits in the library and William falls asleep with his head cradled on Billy's lap. Billy's head slumps backwards on the sofa cushions, eyes wet with tears. He's shaking slightly.

But what catches Homelander's eyes is Billy's neck, exposed in all its glory to Homelander. He licks his lips, feeling the need for Billy's body grow in him. He's felt that so, so often over the past eight years. Nearly every night he'd sit in bed, wanting Billy so much it was like a physical pain. At least during the three and a half years of Billy's relationship with Becca he could swoop down at night when Becca was away and get his full of Billy.

But then there were the eight years when he couldn’t even do that. Where he didn't know where Billy was, if he was safe, if he was even _alive_. If he was allowing someone else to touch him, to hold him the way Homelander should have been. And now he has the best thing back, Billy, right there with him- and he doesn't have to share him with anyone. Not even with these phantom hands he'd imagined holding his Billy throughout the years.

And Billy's throat, white and long and stunning, is covered in Homelander's marks. Red and clear stains on his perfect body showing Homelander just where Billy was touched by him. Billy is always stunning, but with these additions he's fucking perfect.

Homelander stands up and goes over to the library. Billy doesn't move when Homelander comes in, just follows him with his eyes as he comes to stand above him.

He leans down, slowly, slowly, and gently kisses Billy's forehead. Billy's eyes close, and Homelander can feel him relax under the touch of his lips. Homelander has no doubt that this will not last, that Billy is just doing this because he's exhausted and sick of fighting. Billy will start fighting him again any moment now. But he knows how to enjoy these moments while they last.

"Come on," Homelander whispers, moving William gently off Billy, careful not to wake him, and gathering Billy up in his arms. "Let's get to bed."

Billy groans, curling into Homelander's chest, "Let me…go…. please…."

"No, I can't," Homelander whispers, flying through the penthouse and into their suite.

"Homelander," Billy looks up at Homelander settles them in their bed, pushing into a seated position on Homelander's lap. "I don't want you. Find someone who do."

"That so?" Homelander leans against the cushions and grabs Billy's ass. Billy bites his lip. "Because I can hear your heartrate, and feel your pulse, and I'd say you want me, buddy."

But Billy shakes his head stubbornly.

Sighing, Homelander pushes up, flipping them around and throwing Billy down on the bed. Immediately, the complacency disappears, and Billy starts struggling.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, shh," Homelander hushes, placing his elbow on Billy's chest, pushing him down into the mattress. "Listen, just listen to me!"

Losing his patience, Homelander grabs Billy by the neck and shakes him, hard enough to make his eyes roll backwards in their socks. Billy lets out a choked-out cry of pain.

"Billy?" Homelander gaps, letting go of Billy's neck as if the skin he's holding has suddenly caught fire. Billy falls backwards, groaning out in pain, and already marks are starting to appear on his neck. "Billy, I'm sorry, are you-"

"Becca…Becca…" Billy groans. His eyes flutter closed and he hugs his legs to his chest. "Becca….J-John…."

The anger seeps out of Homelander, leaving only horror and love behind it. Homelander feels tears prickle his eyes as he huddles behind Billy, hugging him hard.

"J-John…"

'I'm here," Homelander whispers into Billy's ear. "I'm right here Billy. Shh…it's ok. I'm right here."

Billy shivers, grabbing Homelander's arm and pulling it around him. Homelander can tell he's lost in a torrent of confused emotions, and he's not entirely sure if Billy can ever understand what he's saying anymore.

"I love you," He tells Billy anyways. "You can go to sleep, I'm right here."

He can hear Billy's breath evening out, his necklace going up and down with his chest.

"I'm right here, you're safe."

"Don't…go…"

"I'm not, I'm not going anywhere."

"S-stay…J-John…."

"Shh, I'm right here."

"D-d-don’t leave me," Billy whispers, so low the words barely leave his lips. "W-w-with Homelander…"

And then he falls asleep. Homelander keeps talking to Billy, whispering in his ear for hours after Billy falls asleep and stubbornly avoiding thinking about what Billy had said.

*

"The first thing we need to do," Mr. Edger says, "Is start creating a traceable life for the three of you. When you come out with Butcher, you're going to want people who the media can find that corroborate the idea that you're a family that's been functioning for years."

"Right!" The PR man (James? Jack?) nods enthusiastically. "So, one way to do that would be to get your…um, husband… a job-"

"No," Homelander interrupts, calmly, swirling in his chair. "That's not a possibility."

Jerry turns to look at Mr. Edger, who says calmly, "We'll deal with Butcher later. We can start with something simpler. Your son, William. We need to start sending him to school as quickly as possible."

"Why?" Homelander asks with a frown. He doesn't like the idea of William being out of the penthouse. The kid's a wonderful tool for controlling Billy. 

"Do you want to assume the farce of a normal family?" Mr. Edger demands. "Well, a normal seven-year-old child would go to school."

"It's not a farce," Homelander sneers. "We're a family."

Mr. Edger doesn’t even blink, "But not an ordinary one, isn't that so?"

Homelander snorts, "We're extraordinary."

"Hmm," Mr. Edger clicks his tongue, and Homelander grits his teeth. The man doesn’t seem like he buys it. "I've put together a list of acceptable, Vought approved elementary schools that William can be sent to, we could go over them-"

Homelander groans, "I don't give a fuck about that, you can choose."

Raising an eyebrow, Mr. Edger replies, "In that case, one of these schools is a Vought run institution for gifted children. It's a public school, but the teaching is on a much higher standard to other public schools, and we can say that William is a genius, it will look good."

Homelander wonders if William really was a genius. Probably. William is_ his_ son, after all.

"Fine. I told you, I don't give a fuck."

Johnny adds, "We're working to eliminate any evidence of William's life before he came to live with you. Shouldn't be so hard, people usually don't make the connection, you know? They don't think it could be the kid that they knew. Even if he looks exactly the same and has the same first name. The public can be…well, it's not nice to say stupid, but-"

"We've already organized a funeral for William Jacob Edwards and his mother Rebecca- the names Becca and William had been living under the past seven years," Mr. Edger interrupts. "The explosion at the school was actually quite fortunate in that regard. They became the only casualties."

"Hmm," Homelander can't bring himself to see the explosion as 'fortunate', given that it helped Billy run away from him again.

"But," Jordan adds, "We will need some explanation for why William and Butcher have only lived in New York for a year. He's seven- he'll be eight when this comes out- where has he been living in the past seven years?"

"My suggestion," Mr. Edger says, "Would be to say that William and Butcher had been living in the country- perhaps in the house you supposedly grew up in-"

"No," Homelander's hands tighten on his chair arms. "Not that."

"Very well," Mr. Edger says immediately. "But how about a farm? Saying you left them in the country to allow William to be raised in peace and quiet? We can show pictures of the place but hide its location, saying we want to keep it private in case you and Butcher want to take William back there one day."

"The whole idea," Josh pipes in eagerly. God, he's fucking annoying. "Is to make it clear that Butcher was hidden during the last years not because you're _ashamed_ of the relationship, but because you and Butcher wanted to give William as normal a life as you could."

"Because you're the humble, all American man," Mr. Edger says quietly. "And you wanted to give your child the honest, simple, perfect American childhood that you got. So, do you agree?"

"I agree," Homelander murmurs.

"Right," Jim rubs his hands together. "Though, we still need a reason for why Butcher and William did move to the city, in the end-"

"That's easy," Homelander waves a hand. "Genius kid, we wanted him to go to a school that can _nurture_ that. Hard to find a school like that in the country side."

"Good," Mr. Edger nods. "That's a good explanation, it will work. Shows how dedicated you are to your son's future. Now, I'll get William enrolled in the school tonight; he can start tomorrow. In the meantime- we need you and Maeve in Lebanon. We got reports suggesting Hezbollah has a supe terrorist."

They do. Homelander had made him.

"Maeve can go alone," Homelander looks up at the ceiling. "I don't want to leave Billy in the penthouse alone."

"It will only be a few hours," Mr. Edger argues, then his voice becomes dark. "And that is your side of the deal, remember? You do your duties to Vought. You said you don't trust me, are you giving me a reason not to trust you in turn?"

Homelander glares, but then says, "Fine."

"Very good. Maeve is waiting for you. Go right away."


	15. The Penthouse: Part 3

"Where is William?" Billy says as soon as Homelander lets him out of the suite. He'd left Billy sleeping in the bedroom early in the morning and locked him in, not wanting him to interrupt while he got things ready.

"School," Homelander replies.

"What the bloody _fuck_?" 

"Hmm, Vought's decided it would be good for our image to have William in school," Homelander nods. Then he grins. "Come on, I've got something to show you."

"Wait-" Billy yelps in surprise as Homelander twirls him around and covers his eyes with a bind. He steers Billy away from the suite towards the room that Homelander has personally termed his private prison.

The room is small, and has no windows. The walls, ceiling and floor are all covered in stark white tiles, illuminated by a single light fixture on the ceiling. There are torture decides lining one of the walls, and two chairs with chains to keep people in place standing in the middle, one in front of the other. One of the chairs already inhabited, and the man in it has his mouth duck taped, his ears muffled and his eyes covered in a cloth a bit like Billy's.

"Ready, pal?" Homelander whispers in Billy's ear.

"Ready for what?" Billy asks, grinding his teeth as Homelander places him in the second chair and locks his wrists, ankles, elbows and knees in place. He's not going to have time to fight Billy in the torture performance that's about to come. "Homelander, the bloody hell you doin'?"

He starts trying to get away (obviously, he's always fighting, always trying to get away, until he finally…stops, only to start up again), but Homelander ignores him, moving over to the shivering, terrified man on the other chair.

That man's been sitting there for nearly eighteen hours, but his fear really hasn't calmed down at all. Wooo-_weee_. What a fucking scardy-cat. What the fuck did Billy see in him? Though, to be fair, he'd been really young at the time.

Homelander walks over to the chained man and takes off the ear muffs and blindfold. His eyes widen when he sees Homelander, and Homelander grins at him and waves.

"Hello there," Homelander pats the man's head.

The man mumbles something behind the tape, shaking his head back and forth.

Homelander walks back behind Billy's chair and places his chin on Billy's shoulder, "Are you ready?"

"For _what_, wanker?"

"To meet our guest," Homelander replies.

"What guest? The fuck you up to?"

"You remember Billy, don’t you?" Homelander asks the man in front of him, hearing his voice grow dark with fury. It makes the man sweat even more, as if that's possible. And Homelander has his answer. This scum remembers his Billy.

"Home-"

"He's changed, haven't he," Homelander purrs, caressing Billy's cheek with his knuckles. "He was just a kid when you knew him, wasn't he? I bet he was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Fuck, I can't even imagine how fucking stunning he was."

"Homelander, who the fuck you mouthin' off to?"

"Would you like to see?" Homelander asks innocently.

"Homelander…" Billy growls warningly.

"All right, all right, don't bite my head off," Homelander grins, kissing Billy's nose before slipping the blind off.

Billy stares at the man sitting in front of him, the man stares back at Billy, and then starts to fight harder, trying to speak to Billy. Probably trying to beg for mercy. Tears are running down his eyes, his whole face is puffy and ugly. Well, uglier than he was before. His nostrils expand, showing off the white hairs inside.

Yuck. 

Homelander caresses Billy's hair back, watching his eyes narrow as he tries to place the slightly familiar face in front of him.

"Do you remember this man, Billy?" Homelander whispers to Billy as snort runs down from the man's nose. "You were seventeen when you last saw him."

"Fuck," Billy breathes out, eyes trained on the man. "You didn't…"

"Remember how he fucked you?" Homelander curls around Billy. "Do you remember how he sold you to one of his friends for a few thousand pounds? Remember Neal Phillip Ashton?"

"I didn’t…. I never told you that part," Billy whispers. "I never-"

"I did some sleuthing," Homelander smiles, but he knows that there's no humor on his face. "If you hadn't wanted me to find him, you wouldn't have told me his name."

He can remember that night, when Billy had curled into him after bringing down a pedophile ring and told him, voice groggy from sleep, about the man who'd seduced him as a boy, giving him all the love and attention he had needed. He hadn't told him, at the time, howAshton had used Billy's body to get money from his friend. Homelander has only found out about _that_ during the ten days when he was looking for Billy and William.

Billy breathes out, "Why's he here?"

The snot falls down to Ashton's knee.

"Well," Homelander says idly, "He's here so I can hurt him."

"Homelander…" Billy says as Ashton shakes his head so wildly Homelander's a bit worried he'll somehow break his own neck, which will bring the game to an end much faster then Homelander would like. "You gonna torture him?"

"Right, right, you got it," Homelander pats Billy on the shoulder. He looks at Billy, waiting to see how he'll react.

Billy narrows his eyes at Ashton and then settles down, "All right then."

Homelander frowns down at him, "Really? That's it?"

Raising an eyebrow, Billy replies, "D'you want me to try and talk out outta it? I ain't doin' that."

Homelander burst out laughing, ruffling Billy's hair, "And that case, let's get to it."

He moves over to Ashton and tears the tape off his mouth. The dead man gasps and coughs, and then chokes, "William, please you cannot allow him to-"

"Don't call me that," Billy interrupts, eyes alight with sadistic glee. "Don't fuckin' dare."

"But you mustn't allow this to continue, please! I know you are a kind man, you would not allow this, would you? Please!"

Billy twists in his chair and replies, "Can't move, can I?"

"Just tell him, tell him I have never harmed you," Ashton pleads.

Snorting, Billy says, "Why'd I lie for you, mate?"

"It is not a lie! I loved you, Wi-Billy, I cared for you-"

"You sold him off to one of your friends," Homelander reminds him as he walks over to the wall and tries to decide what to start with. "And let him fuck Billy. I found him; you know. He remembers Billy, because he was the only boy you gave him that wasn't…how did he put it? Available for renting a second time."

"You cunt," Homelander turns for a moment to see Billy try to free himself from the chair.

"You knew all this, didn't you?" Homelander frowns at him, a bit confused. "You were _there_."

Billy stops for a moment but then goes back to struggling, "I didn't know there were more! I'm goin' to tear your bloody heart out of chest-"

"Billy, I'll be doing the torturing around here, thank you very much," Homelander says promptly, deciding on a breast ripper to start with. He shows Ashton the device, making him start to…. scream. Just scream. Scream very loudly and very highly. He doesn't even try to beg anymore. "You can just sit there and enjoy the show."

*

Billy does. He enjoys the show, far more then Homelander had expected him to. Billy sits there, leaning as far forward in his chair as he can, his eyes wide and full of intense pleasure. And that-that is new. He's almost a hundred present sure that Billy hadn't used to see blood and screams as an aphrodisiac.

But now it seems he does. Homelander can smell his arousal in the air, that grows as blood and pieces of Neal's body start littering the floor. Some of the blood splashes Billy, drenching his blue shirt and sprinkling his cheek with red stains. He looks like a rabid dog, he looks entirely mad.

Homelander isn't sure he likes it.

Ashton is screaming, his broken body withering and contorting as if his mind is trying to escape it. Homelander stops for a moment, watching the bones protrude out of his knees and elbows, the beating of his heart where it's almost visible for the naked eye because of all the meat Homelander has cleaved away, his skin which is entirely covered in blood.

His eye balls are on the floor now, crushed under Homelander's toes, Ashton's dick laying on its owner's lap along with the five fingers Homelander has cut off. He's going to die in a few moments, if Homelander just leaves him alone. And that death will be horrific and lonely.

Homelander is content to let that death unfold, but then Billy says, his voice wavering slightly, "Let me out of his cunting chair, right now."

He's not sure why, but Homelander gets the urge to obey without thought. So that's what he does, gently unlocking Billy's cuffs and helping him stand up. Billy rubs his wrists to get feeling back to them, not looking at Homelander. 

"Hand me that knife," Billy demands, keeping his eyes on Ashton's nearly dead body, and motions with his hand.

"He's going to die anyways-"

"Knife, John, now."

He gets the knife.

Billy twirls the knife in his fingers, moving slowly and with purpose, circling Ashton and coming to a stop behind him. He leans down and whispers into Ashton's ear, "Can you still hear me?"

The man doesn’t respond, but to be fair he can't- he doesn’t have a tongue anymore.

"I'm gonna assume you can," Billy continues, bringing his hand up to trail Ashton's cheek. Homelander licks his lips as he watches Billy's calculated, controlled movements. "D'you know, after I left you, I had to throw my cell away. I wanted to call you so bloody much. I missed you so bloody much."

Homelander frowns, unsure of where Billy is going with this.

"Though, if I'm gonna be honest, I haven't thought of you for fuckin' years," Billy sneers into Ashton's ear. "But now that I have you here…I remember how much I bloody _hate_ you."

Homelander grins. Ok. That's an amazing place to go.

"This was one of the best bleeding days of my life," Billy continues, and places the knife at Ashton's neck. He's almost dead. Billy's going to have to move quickly if he wants to be the one to end his life. "I'm gettin' bleeding hard right now."

And then he opens Ashton's throat and watches as the rest of the blood still in his body spill out.

"I can tell," Homelander says as Billy drops the knife and moves away from the dead body.

"What?" Billy blinks up at him.

"That you're getting hard," Homelander walks over to Billy and draws him away from the body of one of the people who'd hurt him. "I can tell."

"Yeah?" Billy murmurs, curling his bloody arms around Homelander's neck and pulls him close.

Homelander grins and cups Billy's face in his hands. He leans in and gently kisses Billy on the lips. He can feel Billy smirking against his lips and then Billy jumps into his arms and starts kissing his neck.

"It's time," Billy whispers in his ear. "Time for you to fuck me."

Homelander shivers, "Fuck."

"Yes, that's what I bloody hell said."

*

He throws Billy down on their bed and crawls over him, his bloody hands leaving red prints on the white, pristine sheets. By the time he makes it to Billy, the man has already taken off his shirt and thrown it on the floor, exposing his heaving chest. The wounds and cuts on it burn Homelander's eyes, but they can't diminish his beauty.

"Oh, Billy…" Homelander clicks his tongue, taking off his suit, his body close to Billy's as the man takes off his pants and underwear. "Wonderful, beautiful Billy."

Billy growls in response, grabbing the back of Homelander's neck and pushing him in. He kisses him fully on the lips, roughly and with no affection whatsoever. It's just possessive.

"Got anythin'?" He gasps out as Homelander lets their kiss break after a few moments.

Homelander snorts and reaches for the side table, where he's kept a few bottles of lube. He takes one out (the brand Billy liked when they were together- he's got lots of different types in case Billy's changed his preferences) and opens it, squirting a generous amount of lube on his fingers and rubs his hands together to warm it.

Billy watches with narrow eyes, his white teeth biting his red lip, and he spreads his legs widely. Homelander's breath hitches as Billy's small pink hole is revealed in all it's glory. He swallows, letting his eyes get their full of that tantalizing sight. He places his hands on Billy's knees, keeping his knees parted. 

And finally, after eleven and a half years, Homelander gently inserts the tip of his finger into Billy's ass.

They groan out together, and Homelander doesn’t know what is going on in Billy's mind, but he knows that what's going on in his is this: his entire conscience is taken up by the heat. The burning, all-consuming inferno that is the inside of Billy's body. It's just the tip of his finger in there, but it's like the reverberating tension is pounding through his entire body.

He wants to slip his mind into Billy's body, to take him over entirely, to drown himself in that beautiful flesh.

"I want you," Homelander whispers. "I want to be inside of you, Billy."

"Get a move on in, then," Billy snaps, trying to even out his breathing. Not wanting that, Homelander slips out the tip of his finger and then pushes it back in, going a bit further this time.

Billy curses, grabbing Homelander's hair hard enough to tear.

"You ok there?" Homelander purrs, making circles with his fingers on the edge of Billy's hole.

"Get goin'!"

"Shh, we'll get there," Homelander kisses down Billy's ear and neck. He reaches the left nipple and places his hand on Billy's chest, to keep him in place, before ducking down and sucking.

He sucks hard, feeling the nipple hardening under his menstruations. While he works on that, Homelander sneaks his finger further into Billy. Billy whimpers, but when Homelander looks up he sees him clasp a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet.

"Don't do that," Homelander whispers to Billy, gently pulling the finger out and then slipping it back in again. "Let me hear you."

But Billy shakes his head.

"Fine, fine," Homelander rolls his eyes and moves towards Billy's right nipple, grabbing it in between his teeth while rubbing the left one in between two fingers. He keeps his finger in Billy, slightly distracted by his attentions to Billy's nipples.

The nipple work takes ten minutes, and by the time Homelander is done they're rock hard, red and nearly bleeding. After giving both nipples one last lick, which causes Billy to hiss, Homelander starts kissing and sucking marks into Billy's skin, and sneaks a second finger in.

Billy yelps, scrambling slightly away from the intrusion. He fists the sheets, swearing as Homelander's fingers slip out to the tip. Homelander looks up, tilting his head.

"What? You don't want to continue?" He doesn’t know what he'll do if Billy says that no, he doesn’t want to. Homelander needs this, but he needs Billy to stop fighting him, even more. He needs what they had, Billy working with him, not against him. He can't keep fighting Billy on this, he just can't.

But Billy just takes a deep breath and starts fucking himself on Homelander's fingers. He grabs hold of the back of the bed and moves back and forth, raising and lowering himself, his biceps tensing and relaxing as he moves. Homelander watches, entranced, as Billy breathes in and out steadily, body flushed and sweating. His white skin is growing pink, his eyes are watering.

"Let me fuck you," Homelander breathes out. "Let me put my dick in you, Billy."

Billy gasps, pulling entirely free of the fingers. He turns around, wordless, and gets on his hands and knees. His ass is thrust into the air, and Homelander laughs, unable to stop himself, and grabs fistfuls of supple flesh in his hands.

"In. Now."

"Yes, sir," Homelander grins and places his nose on Billy's neck. He bites down lightly, and then starts licking down Billy's spine, tasting the sweat and Billy's sweet juices on his tongue.

Homelander spreads Billy's ass cheeks and angles his dick. He hears Billy hold his breathe in anticipation, and then he plunges in.

"Fuck! Bloody fuck-" Billy chokes out.

At the exact same time, Homelander groans and rasps into Billy's ear, "You feel just as good as I remembered."

He really does. Billy feels incredible, just perfect. Billy is perfect for Homelander, he was made for him. Homelander has no doubt about that. His body and soul are there for Homelander. He's Homelander's, through and through. His to fuck, his to protect, his to hide away and love.

"I love you," Homelander pulls out slightly before slamming back in. "I love you."

"Harder," Billy groans. "Harder."

Homelander is more then happy to comply.

He pounds into Billy with vigour, hard and fast and strong, steadying himself with a hand on Billy's neck. Billy barely makes any noise, just lets out groans that seem to come from deep within him. Mostly he just pants, trying to get enough air into his lungs. He seems entirely consumed by the pleasure that Homelander is forcing into him.

Homelander is suddenly reminded of the first time he had fucked Billy. How he had pulled him into his arms and hovered with him in the air, pounding into him from behind. How he'd cradled him in his arms, how Billy had already felt so right around his dick.

So that's what he does. He curls an arm around Billy's waist and pushes him into his chest, moving into the air. Their bedroom has a high, domed ceiling, and Homelander reaches it, hovering inches below the painted sky up there.

Billy gasps and hangs on to Homelander's hair, resting his head on Homelander's shoulder. Homelander puts a hand on Billy's forehead, keeping him in place. He can feel Billy's sharp, quick breaths on the skin of his neck, and then Billy bites him, hard enough to draw blood. Homelander lets himself be bruised and bitten, knowing he'll heal before Billy can take his teeth away, and thrusts into Billy, over and over again.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity. As Homelander pounds into Billy, they become entwined, become one being. Homelander never wants this to end, and he can hold back for as long as he wants. But Billy can’t, and eventually Homelander starts sensing that Billy is getting close. He forces himself to let go at that moment, wanting to come before Billy does.

He spirts his come into Billy's hot, inviting body, tightening his hold on Billy reflexively as he does so. Billy groans and then comes as well. He spirts, and they both watch the come fly down from their position in the ceiling, landing on the tiger-skin carpet that lays next to the fire place.

"How do you clean spunk from a tiger?" Homelander wonders out loud.

Billy bursts out laughing. Hysterically, but still.


	16. The Penthouse: Part 4

"Billy!" William rushes into Billy's waiting arms, shaking slightly. Homelander had kind of forgotten about him for a bit, so after he was brought back to the apartment building from school by the school bus, he'd had to wait in the front desk for about an hour before Homelander let him in. After that, he changed the setting in the elevator and doors. Now, William could go in and out of the doors. The elevator he had set up to read retinal scans- William and Billy were the only ones allowed in the elevator without a special permission from Homelander. If Billy entered the elevator, though, and his eye was scanned, the elevator would shut down and he'd be trapped until Homelander comes to get him. "Billy, I was at school-"

"I heard," Billy replies, looking down at the boy. "How was it?"

William looks back up at him, blinks, and then bursts into a huge smile, "It was _amazing_."

"That so?"

"Yeah," William nods enthusiastically. "It was interesting. Usually school is so _boring_. This wasn't."

Homelander laughs, "I knew you were smart."

Billy frowns, "What's that?"

"It's a school for gifted kids," Homelander ruffles William's hair and slumps down on a chair. They're in one of the kitchens, where Homelander had followed Billy after their shared shower. After Billy had come, his enthusiasm of Homelander had diminished significantly. He seems to be ignoring Homelander entirely, now. "And I knew he's a smart kiddo."

"And I made a few friends," William continues, and turns to Homelander. "Can I call Mom to tell her?"

"No," Homelander snaps. "You'll talk to her in a month."

"A month?" William's lower lip wavers slightly, like he's about to cry.

"I was going to let you talk to her in two weeks," Homelander replies. "But I told you not to call Becca 'mom', didn't I? You need to be punished. Just be grateful I'm not punishing you with anything-"

"William," Billy turns William to look at him, ignoring Homelander completely. "He ain't gonna touch you, I swear."

"Billy, stop making promises you can't keep," Homelander warns.

"I can keep this one," Billy replies. "You touch him, and I slit my throat, yeah?"

"I told you," Homelander says immediately. "If you die, Becca-"

"You hurt William, and I'd have broken my word to her, I'd have not kept the lad safe," Billy replies. "There ain't no purpose if I can't keep my promises."

"I won't touch him," Homelander takes a deep breath. "Ever. I promise."

Billy doesn't reply, just storms out of the kitchen with William in toe. 

*

"Why didn't you say goodbye to me?"

Homelander looks up from his computer when he hears William talk. His eyes wonder, finding Billy and William in the movie theatre, watching a cartoon.

Billy turns to look at William and says, "He's probably listenin', yeah? Keep that in mind."

"He can't _always_ be listening," William argues.

"But he always could be, yeah?" Billy says sternly, and Homelander rubs his face. Sometimes he thinks it would be slightly easier if Billy was less intelligent. Like, maybe just a bit. "So you have to always act like he is."

"That's hard."

"It's that, all right," Billy grumbles. "And to answer your question, I didn't even bloody know you were leaving." 

"But tomorrow-"

"Do you need me to hold your hand, lad?"

"Yes," William says in a small voice. "You have to hold my hand, there's no one else."

"There's your mum."

"She's not here! And I don’t know when I'll ever see her again. There's just you," William says, and then adds, quietly, "And I have to stay next to you, to keep you safe."

"Bloody hell you do," Billy leans over William. "That ain't your job."

"I let you get caught, so I have to protect you."

"Your mum told me to watch over you, no topsy-turvy there."

"No," William shakes his head. "I'm stronger. I'll take care of you."

"Shut the fuck up, pisser."

Homelander is a bit surprised when he hears William respond to Billy's angry dismissal with laughter.

*

About a month after Billy came (well, technically, was brought, but semantics) to the penthouse, Homelander decides it's time to interduce him to his team.

The past month has been incredibly odd and disjointed. Most of the time, Billy doesn’t give him the time of day. Ignores him when he comes into rooms, sets the table for two, answers direct questions with one-word answers.

When William is in the penthouse, Billy spends every moment hovering over the boy, glaring at Homelander whenever he got close to him. When William isn’t there, Billy exercises. He swims, he lifts weights, he runs. Homelander gets the impression that Billy is trying to burn out as much energy as he can, so he won't have any left to attack Homelander with.

Homelander makes sure that the three of them have dinner together every night, which at the beginning are an incredibly tense affair. But kids are kind of dumb and don't have a long memory, and before long William starts talking at dinner, telling Homelander and Billy about his day at school. Billy talks a bit more during those meals, asking William questions and making the odd comment about the boy's remarks.

He doesn’t want William to feel uncomfortable.

It's only during the nights where Billy is open and unreserved. Not every night- sometimes he just slips into the bed and huddles into himself, ignoring Homelander. Homelander quickly learns to ignore him on those nights. He could force a reaction out of him, but after he's made Billy come, Billy will get furious and attacks. And then Homelander will hurt Becca, and Billy will become furious and even more distant for fucking _days_.

It's much easier to just leave Billy alone on those nights, and wait for the good ones. The ones where, in the dark, Billy moves towards him, climbing on his chest and kissing him hard. And then they're off. Those are the nights where Homelander gets to fuck Billy. He never does on the nights where Billy is huddled away from him, just blows him, if he touches him at all.

Homelander isn't sure the situation will get any better, so the time has come. The time has come for Billy to meet the Seven.

Not that they are _seven_, anymore. Translucent and A-Train are dead, and The Deep is still hanging out at the bottom of the Atlantic. If Homelander had his way, they'd be down to three, but Mr. Edger wants to keep Starlight, so they're four.

About to be five. Mr. Edger has officially sent Translucent into 'retirement', and so they'll be gaining a new member of the team. Stormfront, a pretty willowy brunette there to cater to the young, progressive crowd.

The kind of crowd that's unquestionably pro-gay. That's the only reason Homelander isn't putting up more of a fight about her joining, or about Starlight sticking around. Apparently Mr. Edger has a rule for her in the upcoming play.

To celebrate the new Seven member, Vought decides to hold a small party. Only Vought workers will be invited. It will be a small, private affair. No media.

It's the perfect first step for Billy's integration into his world.

Billy doesn’t agree.

"I ain't goin' to no bloody posh party," He announces when Homelander comes into William's playroom with the suit he had made for the occasion.

Homelander, who doesn't have the time to argue- the party's starting in one hour and he had thought springing it on Billy would be better then fighting him over it for days- rolls his eyes and begs, "Come on, it will be fun. There'll be alcohol."

"There's booze here," Billy replies, and well, yeah, fair, and then taps William hard on the head. "The bloody hell you starin' at? Get back to work."

William glares up at Billy but obediently goes back to the math homework he'd stopped working on when Homelander had come into the room.

"There will be people at the party," Homelander tries a different tactic. "Don’t you miss human interaction?"

"You sayin' you ain't human, Homelander?"

"Oh God," Homelander groans and pushes past William to hug Billy's chest from behind. Billy becomes stiff, which is his reaction when he doesn’t want to be touched. He can usually be coaxed out of that state, unless he's in a really prissy mood, but Homelander doesn’t really have the time to do the work to calm him down. "Listen, we're going to be late. Just put on the suit so we can go."

"That so?" Billy sneers. "Then you better get goin', yeah?"

Homelander pats Billy's shoulder, "Put the suit on, Billy. Or I'll have to dress you myself."

"Give me the fuckin' clothes."

Homelander grins and obeys. Billy, grumbling to himself, rushes out of the room and slams the door behind him, making William wince slightly. Homelander watches Billy strip in the hallway and start to dress, but then he's distracted when William sniffs quietly.

"So," Homelander sits down next to William and ruffles his hair. "You're going to be ok by yourself, little man? You'll go to bed on time?"

"I guess," William mumbles.

"Hey, you'll be ok," Homelander promises. "Remember, there's cameras all over the apartment. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Don't think that'll calm him," Billy says dryly. Homelander blinks and turns to the door, where Billy is leaning on the frame glaring at him.

"Holly fuck…" Homelander whispers.

The suit is black and made of a hundred percent wool, under it is a pressed white shirt and blue tie. His shoes are leather and he's got a golden watch on his wrist. The clothes fit Billy like a second skin, bringing out the muscled form he's perfected during the past months and his blue eyes.

He's fucking stunning. Holy fuck, Homelander wants to get him out of these clothes right fucking now. But they don't have time for that, so Homelander shakes his head.

"Well, William, we'll see you tomorrow morning," Homelander says brightly and takes hold of Billy's arm. "Bye, bye!"

"I don't need help walkin'," Billy growls as Homelander steers him away from William's room.

"Hush, hush," Homelander and Billy get to the front door and places his finger on the panel, making the metal slip to the side. "I'm in a good mood, don't ruin it for me."

"What a shame that would be."

Homelander grins as he ushers Billy through the hallway, past the second door and into the elevator. He notices Billy looking everything over, probably trying to figure out how he can use all this new information to get out of the penthouse. Homelander lets him. He knows the penthouse is secure.

They reach the front desk and Homelander pulls Billy out of the building. A rush of fresh air hits them in the face and Billy gasps, eyes fluttering closed. Homelander frowns.

Billy breathes out, stumbling slightly into Homelander's arms.

"What's wrong?" Homelander asks, slightly alarmed.

"Nothin'," Billy mumbles, pushing away from Homelander. "M'fine."

"What happened?" Homelander demands. "Why did you-"

"It's nice feeling the air again, you cunt, all right?" Billy snaps. "Haven't felt the air for a whole fuckin' month."

"Oh," Homelander blinks. That's one fucking serious oversight for him.

"Oh?" Billy snorts. "Bloody eloquent, Homelander."

"I'll start taking you out more," Homelander promises, hoisting Billy up. "But right now, we've got a party to get to."

*

"Homelander," Mr. Edger rushes over to him as soon as he walks in, eyes wide. "What are you doing? He can't be here-"

"Why not?" Homelander asks with a raised eyebrow, keeping a hold on Billy's wrist as he tries to move past Mr. Edger towards the stairs leading to the main area of the party. He can see Queen Maeve standing with Starlight by one of the tables, each with a drink in their hands.

"We're not ready for this type of public-"

"Yes, we are," Homelander snaps. "You have eleven months before I'm going public with Billy. I want Vought to know him before that."

"Eleven months is quite a long time…"

"Well, excuse me if I don't trust you to keep your promise," Homelander growls.

Mr. Edger pulls away, "I thought we had an understanding."

"We do, I'm helping you," Homelander grins and walks down the stairs, whispering into Billy's ear, "Behave, or I'll break all the bones in Becca's right arm, got it?"

"Got it," Billy whispers back, and Homelander can see the hatred storming around in his eyes.

Everybody stares at them when they make their way down the stairs, and Homelander grins at Stormfront and raises his hand to her, "Hey there! Welcome to the Seven. Have you met my husband, Billy?"

*

"Get me a drink."

Homelander is standing next to the ice sculpture of himself, talking nonsense to someone. Someone from Mr. Edger's department, he thinks. Billy had left him to wonder on his own about half an hour ago, and given where they are, Homelander couldn't physically force him to stay by his side. He's keeping an eye on him, but until now all Billy's done is politely refuse to speak to people and answer their questions and gone back to the bars every few minutes. He's taken Homelander's threat seriously and has 'behaved' himself.

But he is getting drunk. If he drinks anymore, Homelander is going to put a stop to it.

"What do you want?" The barman asks, sounding a bit confused.

"Anything, don't give a fuck," Billy responds.

Homelander turns and watches Billy lean against the bar, running his fingers through his hair.

"Get him a cocktail," Billy and Homelander both turn to see Queen Maeve coming to stand next to Billy. "Improvise something. And get me one, too."

"Sure."

Billy straightens up slightly and asks, "You need to get pissed, to?"

"I usually do," Maeve replies, bitterly, and Billy narrows his eyes at her.

"Hmm," Billy accepts the cocktail from the barman without a word. 

"So," Maeve sips from her drink. "You're Billy Butcher."

"So, you're Queen Maeve," Billy replies dryly.

"Maeve," Maeve corrects. "If you're going to be hanging around, you should call me Maeve."

"Yeah? Then I suppose you should call me Billy, then," Billy replies, watching Maeve intently, and then he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Maeve flinches. "Sorry, it was stickin' out to me."

"It's fine," Maeve says and moves a bit away from Billy.

"Though you didn't enjoy it, did you?" Billy grins.

"No," Maeve replies calmly, and she's looking at Billy like she's realizing something about him. And Homelander doesn’t like it, because he's not sure what it is Maeve is seeing there. "Not at all."

"Well, to each his own, yeah?"

"You'd know," Maeve side-eyes Homelander, and scowls when she realizes he's watching them.

Billy follows Maeve's eyes and raises his middle finger at Homelander, "Eavesdropping, cunt?"

Homelander rolls his eyes and Billy looks away. Maeve frowns at Homelander for a moment and then turns back to Billy.

"I try to tell him that eavesdroppin' is rude," Billy says dryly.

"I think we're past 'rude' with him," There's a bitter edge to Maeve's tone that Homelander does not like.

"Ain't that the truth."

"You know, it's weird to meet you," Maeve continues. "I heard so much about you, from him."

Homelander bristles, not liking being referred to as 'him'.

Billy snorts and replies, "And I heard quite a bit 'bout you."

"Not from him."

"Nah, not from him. He don't like talkin' about you. Never has."

They drink in silence for a few moments before Maeve says, "You know, when we were together…it was always…it was never real."

"I'm sure it won't," Billy replies. "But I'm not quite as invested as you seem to think."

Jesus, Billy. Harsh.

"No, I know," Maeve replies. "I just want you to understand how fucked up your situation us. See, you're the one and only actual fucking relationship that loser has ever had. And probably the only relationship he’ll ever have."

"Look, if you want to say somethin', just say it," Billy snaps. "What is it you want Homelander to hear?"

Homelander turns to see Maeve leaning against the bar, with sparkling eyes, and she says, eyes never leaving Billy, "That now we know. We all know what his weakness is."

"Aye," Billy nods, and whispers into Maeve's ear, "But what's mine, hmm?"

And then he walks away from Maeve and returns to Homelander, who reaches out and reels Billy in. Billy raises an eyebrow and says, "Can we fuck off yet?"

"Sure," Homelander replies softly, kissing Billy's forehead. "You did good."

"Say that again and I'll bite your cock off."

"O-_kay_, time to go home."

*

"That went well," Homelander says, slumping down on the sofa next to Billy. "It was a nice party, wasn't it?"

"Hmm," Billy looks at the TV, and Homelander turns to see what he's glaring at.

Weirdly enough, it's the tapes for that reality TV show of the Seven that Vought had wanted to make to help with the fight to get them in the military. But since they've already managed to get in, and there were too many Seven members that couldn't be shown in a TV show at the moment, the show was shelved indefinitely.

Homelander had requested all the film disks be sent to him, just in case they had anything about him he didn't want Vought to possess. He hasn't really had the time to watch the disks, but it seems like Billy's decided to give it a try.

"Of all the things to watch," Homelander yawns and curls around Billy, resting his chin on Billy's shoulder. "You choose this."

"They filmed you fuckers more then you know," Billy replies, and Homelander frowns, questioning. "When you ain't lookin', they're filmin'."

"Got anything interesting about me?"

"Haven't got to you yet," Billy replies, tilting his head slightly as Homelander starts kissing his neck. "Watchin' Maeve now."

"Maeve?" Homelander mumbles and looks at the TV. Maeve is outside, clearly being filmed from far away and unaware of that. She's talking to Elena, looking pretty angry. "Huh, haven't seen Elena in ages."

"She Maeve's?"

"Used to be," Homelander replies and smiles at Billy. "While we were together, Maeve was with Elena. See?"

"You were each other's beard," Billy snorts and slumps back on the couch, clearly waiting to be kissed again. "Smart."

"Thanks."

He notices Billy smiling, looking ridiculously smug with himself. Homelander isn't entirely sure why he's so pleased with himself, but Billy is opening his legs and thrusting forward, so he lets it go.


	17. William And Hughie Interlude

William sees it as soon as he opens his lunchbox. A napkin laying underneath his chicken sandwich. Billy never puts a napkin in his lunch box. He's never done that, not once. So it has to mean something. Billy told him once, "When you ain't able to talk, you find other ways to communicate, yes? So, pay bloody attention to small things."

They were driving at the time, in a car Billy stole from the parking lot of a kindergarten. It was three days before Homelander caught them because of William's laser (stupid, stupid. He was still furious at himself for that). Billy was trying to explain things to William, in case they were caught. But William had been a silly little boy back then, he didn't think they would get caught. So, he'd thought it was pointless, but he'd still listened, because it was hard not to listen to Billy when he spoke.

It was a good thing he did.

Curious, William unfolds the napkin, carefully and discreetly. Billy has scribbled an email address on it, and under it the words _send this_ and then a long line of numbers and letters.

A code. Cool.

Billy is _cool_, he's really cool. William has known that since the week and a half they were on the run together after leaving Mom. He steals, he swears _all_ the_ time_, he taught William to punch and kick. Apparently, you had to keep your thumb _out_.

And Mommy loves him, and that matters. Mommy is smart, she knows things. If she loves Billy, that makes Billy the best. And also- William doesn’t want Homelander to be his dad, but Billy is cool, so he chooses him instead. Mommy had shown him pictures of Billy and she told him he was his father. And, yeah, maybe she lied. But…she must have said that for a reason, right?

When William had asked Billy about that, one night when they were watching a movie in their stolen motel room, Billy had said, "She probably thought I should've been your pops."

That had made sense, in a weird kind of way. But Billy was weird, so…

Billy loves Mommy, and he tells him stories about how Mommy was before William was born, and about his Aunt Rachel and Grandma Hannah. He listens to the Spice Girls with him and tells him how much he hates the band. He makes William feel, just for a moment, that his mother isn't that far away.

Homelander doesn’t like that, he comes into the room and tells Billy to stop, turns the music off glares, his eyes growing red. Sometimes Billy does what Homelander wants, and William prefers that, because that way Homelander leaves them alone. But sometimes Billy just ignores Homelander, and sometimes they get into a fight.

These times are the worst. Because when they fight, Homelander locks Billy in their bedroom and William doesn't see him for hours. He hates that the most out of everything in the world. Being alone in the penthouse makes him feel all _small_, like when he was a really little kid and he went with Mom to the theater, and the ceiling was so tall that he got so scared he started crying. When he's alone in the penthouse, he wants to cry. He feels like he's always in danger.

He's safe when he's around Billy, he knows that. And now Billy has a job for him, and maybe if William get it done well Bill will also feel safe.

Maybe he'll see that William will always keep him safe.

*

The _ping_ announcing a received message makes Hughie jump up from his half sleeping state on the chair. He stirs, blinks and picks up the phone.

It's an email from an unknown account, and consists- as far as Hughie can see- of a paragraph of random numbers and letters.

A code.

"MM! Frenchie!" Hughie yells, jumping up and running to the farm-house living room. They've been living in a farm in the middle of, as MM put it, butt-fuck nowhere, with Hughie's dad and MM's family. They'd gotten them out of protective custody three weeks earlier, none of them feeling that they can trust anyone anymore with their loved ones.

"What?" Frenchie asks, jumping into a standing position on the sofa. Kimiko, besides him, just blinks up at him before going back to watching National Geographic.

They'd only gotten _her_ back a few days ago, a culmination of a plan nearly a month in the making, which had involved information from Annie, s Santa Klaus outfit, a few tranquilizers, mojitos, and one rabid squirrel released into a room full of Vought guards.

Hughie isn't going to lie, he's oddly glad to have her back. She's nuts, but they're all nuts. Billy the nuttiest of them all, and Hughie really misses him.

Not as much as he misses Annie, but still.

Oh, Annie. Hughie hasn't seen her since he left her to try and bring A-Train back to life. They communicate through emails and on the phone, but it's too dangerous to actually see each other. Annie's being watched most of the time by Vought workers, who don't trust her yet.

"Email," Hughie hands the phone over to MM. "I don't know who it's from…"

"Billy," Mother's Milk replies, motioning Frenchie over. "It's his code."

"Huh," Hughie looks down as Frenchie brings a page of paper and pen, writing down the numbers with spaces in between. "What about the letters, Frenchie?"

"The letters aren't part of the code," Mother's Milk explains. "The numbers are the words, and the letters show where one ends and the other begins. And to confuse people trying to figure it out."

"They think the letters are part of the code," Hughie nods. "That makes sense. Smart. Who came up with it?"

"It's Billy's," Frenchie replies, quickly writing letters under the numbers, decoding Billy's message.

"It's Geometry," MM adds. "Becca's family isn't really religious, so they didn't expect Billy to convert to Judaism when they married, but they still wanted Billy to learn a bit about it. So he agreed to go to some classes. Basically the only thing he remembers about them is Geometry. He came up with the idea to put letters in between to confuse folks while we were still with Mallory."

"Becca's Jewish? I never knew," Hughie mumbles, and looks at MM. "You seem to know quite a bit about his past. At least more than anyone else."

Mother's Milk taps his fingers on the table and looks out the window, "He used to talk more. At the very beginning."

"What happened?"

"Time passed, and he didn't get what he wanted," MM replies. "The motherfucker got angrier and I couldn't…. get to him anymore."

Hughie is a bit surprised to see clear pain and sadness in MM's eyes. He gets it, though. Billy is odd. It's hard _not_ to be drawn to him, and want his affection and pride.

"Got it," Frenchie jumps up and hands the napkin over to MM.

Hughie looks over MM's shoulder and reads, _Maeve Elena Georgia Martinez GF_.

"Maeve has an _amoureux_ named Elena Georgia Martinez," Frenchie translates.

"Well done, Billy," Mother's Milk mutters.

*

"Hughie."

"Annie…" Hughie sighs deeply, settling down in his seat. He's sitting in their van, waiting with MM for Maeve to arrive at the alley they're stationed in. It's nearly two weeks since they got their orders from Billy (MM prefers to call it 'information', but he's really lying to himself. They're following Billy's orders, as per usual), but they finally have what they need.

Frenchie had been the one to capture pictures of Maeve kissing Elena Martinez and then being pushed away by her. It had made Hughie actually pretty sad to see the pictures. Maeve is clearly drunk in them, and Elena is clearly exasperated and hurt. It didn't make him particularly eager to blackmail Maeve, but he'll do what needs to be done. To bring the fuckers down, so he can be with Annie again.

Annie…

"She just left the Tower," Annie tells him, and then her voice lowers, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. So much. How are you?"

Annie laughs, a bit sadly, "My mom tried talking to me again."

"Fuck, Annie, I'm so sorry," Hughie closes his eyes. "If I'd known-"

"This isn't your fault. You're not the one who pumped me full of chemicals to make me into a supe."

Hughie winces, "Yeah. But I'm still sorry."

"It's funny," Annie muses. "The people that should apologize to me- my mom, Vought- they won't. And you, who really shouldn’t, won’t shut the fuck up and just_ keeps_ saying sorry."

Hughie grins, "Sorry."

"Funny," Annie says dryly.

"Do you think it would help?"

"What do you mean?" Annie asks.

"I mean," Hughie bites his lip. "I mean, if your mom would say sorry, would it make you feel better?"

Annie sighs, "I don't think so. The damage is already done, you know?"

"Yeah. I know," Hughie thinks of Billy. If Billy apologized for abandoning MM and Frenchie, would that make Hughie feel better? Probably not. His anger wouldn't go away, and it wouldn't change the fact that for some unknown reason he's still loyal to the man.

"I saw Butcher again, today," Annie says, as if she read Hughie's mind.

Hughie's eyes widen, "Really? Where?"

"At the Tower. Homelander was giving him a tour. Mr. Edger showed up, and he didn't look pleased."

"He didn't want Billy there?"

"Didn't seem like it."

"Hmm," That's interesting.

"But I don't think you need to worry about him suffering from Stockholm Syndrome," Annie suddenly sounds incredibly amused.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Homelander tried kissing him and Billy said, and I quote 'do that again and I'll break your bloody fireman's'. Not sure what that means…"

Hughie laughs, "Nose. It means he'll break Homelander's nose. Or, well, try."

He very much doubts Billy would actually be able to break Homelander's nose. 

"He gave me a message," Annie adds, sounding pleased with that.

"What did it say?" Hughie sits up straighter.

"If I'm translating the cockney right, it was a threat that he'll cut off my nipples if I stop helping you."

"That's pretty lame, for Billy. If he was really pissed at you, he'd have said something like that he'd put dynamite in your- your vagina."

"Jesus. No wonder Homelander likes him."

Hughie blinks.

"Sorry, Hughie. That's not what I mean."

"No, it's ok," Hughie still hasn't quite processed the information that Billy had once been in a relationship with Homelander. With _Homelander_. With fucking_ Homelander_. In all honesty, he's been trying pretty hard _not_ to think about it.

Though, it kind of, in a really, really fucked up way, makes sense. Billy's hatred of Homelander is so far beyond Hughie's own hatred of A-Train that it had always seemed odd to Hughie. He can understand hating Homelander, but hating him so much that he's willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to get him? That he just can't wrap his mind around, especially given the kind heart he'd seen peep out of Billy once in a while, a kind heart that's just squashed and pushed away whenever Homelander comes up. For fuck's sake, Billy had almost given up a chance to bring down _Vought _with the help of the CIA because they wouldn't give him Homelander.

And Billy is the only one of them like that. It's clear to Hughie that both Frenchie and MM hate the supes passionately, even if he doesn't actually know their private reasons. But none of them are like Billy. Now Hughie knows- it's not just hatred over Becca. Billy hates Homelander because he hurt him, hurt Billy. And it's not only hatred.

It's heartbreak as well.

"It's really fucked up," Hughie adds to Annie.

"Yeah, you think?" Annie sighs. "Listen, Hughie, I know you…kinda care about Butcher. But he's a fucked-up asshole. He shot me in the chest. And anyone who can be in a relationship with Home-"

"Why?" Hughie demands, suddenly feeling righteously angry on Billy's behalf. "Remember when you first started working for the Seven? You thought Homelander was perfect. _You_ couldn’t see through his mask. Why is it so hard to believe that Billy could be tricked by him as well? And if you were tricked into a relationship with a monster, wouldn't you go a little crazy if you got out of it and then your ex raped your next partner? I think I would."

Annie takes a deep breath through the phone, "You're right, I think. Sorry."

"Hughie-"

Hughie shrieks when MM's hand lands on his shoulder.

Mother's Milk's eyebrow goes up, "Calm your tits, man. She's coming."

"Shit," Hughie looks up to see Maeve staggering over. "I'll talk to you later, Annie. Stay safe."

"You too."

Hughie throws the phone down on the seat and rushes out of the van with MM.

"Hey!" Mother's Milk grins, running towards the stumbling supe. "Oh my God! Hughie, look! It's Queen Maeve!"

Hughie walks behind MM as Queen Maeve stops, takes a deep breath and then looks up, a brilliant smile on her face, "Hello."

"I can't believe it!" Mother's Milk shakes his head. "Would you sign a picture for me? I mean, only if you don't mind, of course. I don't want to take up to much of your time, it's just my daughter is a huge fan-"

"No, no, of course," Queen Maeve smiles, and walks over. "Do you have something you want me to sign…"

"Oh, yeah, here," MM pulls out a picture of Queen Maeve kissing Elena.

Queen Maeve's face grows white. She gasps and looks back up at MM. Her eyes grow wide, as if she's suddenly recognizing Mother's Milk, and she takes a step backwards.

"I think maybe we should talk," Mother's Milk says gently, and Queen Maeve shivers.

"Just tell me what you want," Queen Maeve shakes her head. "If you want Butcher back, I can't help you with that-"

"That's not what we're after," MM replies calmly. "I think you know what we're after."

Queen Maeve lets out with is probably meant to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a cackle. Jesus.

"You want me to help you bring the Seven down," She gasps. "Isn't that right?"

"No, no," Mother's Milk shakes his head. "I want you to help us bring down Vought."

"Why would I do that?" Queen Maeve asks. "And don't tell me it's because of these pictures- they'll destroy me, sure, but bringing Vought down will do the same."

Hughie clears his throat, and both MM and Queen Maeve turn to look at him with a frown. Hughie gets a bit of deja vu. It's a little like when he was a kid and he tried to speak while his parents were talking and they didn't quite understand why he was butting in.

But he has something to say, this time, so Hughie takes a step forward and talks straight to Maeve.

"I could tell you that if we release these pictures it would hurt Elena, and I think you care about that. But…I don't want to do that. I don't want to threaten you. I don't think I need to. Look at you. You're clearly drunk, you were drunk when you came to Elena, as well. You're not happy, are you? Vought took away your love and your freedom and your happiness. So…I think you're going to help us. Because if you don’t, you're going to end up dead, aren't you?"

Queen Maeve glares at him for a moment, and then takes a deep breath and nods, "I'll help you."

*

"Where are we?" Hughie asks as Queen Maeve has Mother's Milk stop the van in front of a grey apartment building in the middle of Newark.

"This…is The Legend's place," Maeve says quietly. "He made us."

"Made you?" MM slips out of the van after Maeve. "Did he invent Compound V?"

"No, no," Maeve shakes her head. "That was Vogelbaum. The Legend is the one that came up with our…stories. Our backstories. Homelander raised in the perfect American family, me being Empress of the Netherworld. He came up with all of it."

"Shit," Hughie's eyes widen. "Wait, wait…so if he came up with all of the lies-"

"He knows the truth," Mother's Milk looks just as shocked as Hughie feels.

Jackpot.

They follow Maeve into the building. The dank, cold and urine-smelling building. It's not where he'd expect an important Vought member to live.

They go up three stories, and Maeve opens the door without knocking. Hughie frowns at Mother's Milk, and follows Maeve into the apartment. Which is cold and dark and messy. Maeve walks through the hallway and into the first room.

The room is pretty large, with silver-painted walls and a dark brown wood floor. Most of the room is taken up by boxes and piles of paper, except for one small shaky desk and chair. On the chair sits a small, hunched over man. The man is bold, wearing a grey overall and white shirt. He's at least in his eighties, with moles and sports covering his head.

"Legend," Maeve says softly.

The man turns, and he's very, very ugly. He's wearing huge round glasses, that bring out his beady, grey, little eyes that widen with disgusting lust when he sees Maeve. When he smiles, Hughie can see his teeth are yellow and a few of them are missing.

"Maeve! Good to see you, good to see you!" He raises his hand to Maeve, and when she comes over to shake it, lets his eyes lower to her chest. Gross. Then his eyes move to Mother's Milk and Hughie. "And who are these?"

Maeve shrugs and leans against the desk, "I brought them here. They can explain themselves."

"All right," Mother's Milk pats Hughie's shoulder as he moves past him. "We'll talk. We want information about the Seven, the truth about them. About how to beat them."

The Legend stares at MM for a moment, the grins, "I know who you are. You're Butcher's people, aren't you?"

Maeve frowns, "You know about Butcher?"

"I know most of what goes on in Vought," The Legend shrugs. "Mr. Edger isn't a big fan of Butcher, but Homelander asked me to write a story for their relationship. Now, Maeve. What the hell were you thinking, bringing these asses here instead of straight to Vought?"

Maeve looks away, "I'm sick of Vought."

"Is that so?" The Legend sneers. "So, you're willing to help people bring down everything we worked so har-"

"Listen, I don't have time to argue with you," Mother's Milk snaps, and leans down next to The Legend. "Tell me one thing- why are you living in this shitty little apartment? You'd think, if you're as important to Vought as Maeve makes you sound, that you'd be living in the lap of fucking luxury at Vought Tower."

The Legend snorts, "I choose to live here, fucker. I don't want Vought interfering with my work."

MM's eyebrow goes up, "That so?"

"Yes, that's so," The Legend snaps. "My work if far too important to let anyone have an effect on it. It's art, art can't be tainted by the world."

"Art, huh?" Mother's Milk snorts. "You're a fucking dickhead, aren't you?"

"I am a genius," Legend replies. "A genius artist-"

"Ok, ok," Mother's Milk shakes his head. "I actually kind of believe you. I mean, the backstories of the Seven have been pretty perfect, haven't they? They work. People _love_ the Seven."

"Yes, yes, yes," The Legend nods vigorously. "You understand-"

"But it's just a start, though," Mother's Milk shrugs. "Ain't that right, Hughie? I mean, the guy wrote the backstories, the beginning. He hasn't written any of their ends. We did that. Hughie here killed Translucent; Starlight brought down The Deep. People are stealing your stories and ending them for you."

Hughie's eyes widen as The Legend jumps up, hands raised in an attempt to strangle Mother's Milk. MM just moves slightly to the side, letting The Legend fall to the ground.

"Oh, shit!" Maeve jumps up as The Legend hits the ground with a groan. She looks up with wide eyes at MM and cries, "Why did you do that?"

"He's fine," MM says quietly, grabbing The Legend's arm and seating him back in his seat, leaning over him. "Aren't you?"

The Legend breathes out sharply, "You want me to help you bring the Seven down. You want me to help destroy the thing I have worked for half of my life to create."

"I want you to end your story, on your terms," Mother's Milk replies. "You saw how we brought some of them down. They're being destroyed, it's happening. The only thing you have to decide is how they'll go."

The Legend glares at Mother's Milk, and then says softly, "I'll tell you one thing. One."

"All right then," Mother's Milk nods. "Tell us one thing."

The Legend hesitates, and then takes a deep breath, "Black Noir. Do you know why he never speaks, why he never takes off his mask?"

"I'm assuming you're about to tell me?"

"Oh, I am," The Legend grins. "It's because he's a clone. Of Homelander."

A clone. Of Homelander. Hughie blinks.

What the fuck.

Mother's Milk takes a few steps backwards and shakes his head, "A clone. You made a clone."

"Well, I didn't make him," The Legend smirks. "Vogelbaum did. But he wanted to keep him in the labs until he was needed. I said-no. Let him out, make him work next to Homelander, tell him that his one and only job in life is to take down Homelander should the need arise. And he has. He's been by Homelander since the Seven was started."

"What?" Hughie cries out. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. If that happens, how are you going to take down Black Noir?"

The Legend blinks up at him, "I think the idea was that they'd take each other out-"

"Stop, stop," Maeve cries out, and the three men all turn to look at her. Her eyes are wide with fury and pain. "Stop."

She stomps over to Legend and shoves him backwards in his chair.

"Maeve…"

"You knew," Queen Maeve cries out. "It wasn't stupidity, you _knew_. You knew that you might have to stop him, you knew he was too powerful. But you let hm out into the world, anyways. It wasn't a mistake, it was planned."

"Homelander is the perfect superhero," Legend insists. "He's everything we ever wanted him to be-"

"He's not!" Maeve screams. "He's not, he's not! He let a plane full of people fucking die. He could have saved them; he chose not to. He rapes, he hurts, he's been stalking a man for twelve years-"

"Publicly, he's perfect. And so are you. That's all I care about."

Maeve lets out a horrified scream, and punches the Legend in the dick. Hughie grimaces at the sound of a dick breaking (that's a first for him) and the howl that comes out of The Legend's mouth. Luckily, though, he doesn’t have to listen to it for a long time, a Maeve quickly breaks The Legend's neck.

Hughie starts at the dead, pathetic little man, Queen Maeve heaves out. And then she says, "Well. You got what you wanted. Now…I need to get a drink."

MM and Hughie watch Maeve stagger out of the room, and then MM says, "We need to send Billy a message. He needs to know about this."

"Uh-huh," Hughie squeaks out.

*

William has a computer science class two days later, and he takes the opportunity to check his email (who uses email anymore? Jeez). His heart lets out a little flutter when he sees one new email, and then a skip when he sees its contents. It's a long line of letters and numbers.

Biting his lip, William carefully copies the message to his math book, and quickly deletes the email. The rest of the day goes by very slowly. He can't wait to get home and show Billy the message, and finds himself wondering what it could possibly say. William isn't entirely sure who Billy was communicating with, but it's probably his friends. And Billy's friends are working to take Homelander down.

So, what could they be telling Billy? Not that Billy is likely to tell William, even if he finds a way to ask him without Homelander finding out. There's a lot Billy doesn’t tell him.

Oh, well.

That evening, William settles down in the smaller kitchen's counter, takes out his homework and calls out to Billy, "Come help me!"

"A-ha," Billy mumbles, putting down the knife he'd been using to cut tomatoes for a pasta sauce (he's also been waving the knife at Homelander every time he got close) and slipping into the stool next to William. "What's you got for me?"

William swallows and opens his math book, pushing it lightly towards Billy, "Here."

Billy's eyes widen when he sees the line of letters and numbers, and he looks up. William looks up at well, seeing that Homelander isn't looking at them, he's watching the pasta-water bubble. But he could look, any moment now. Billy gives William a_ look_ and goes back to stare at the math book. William keeps his eyes on Homelander's to make sure he doesn’t look at Billy while he reads the message.

But then Billy lets out a horrified, strangled cry, and slams the math book closed. Homelander turns to look at them, looking worried.

"Billy? Are you ok?"

Billy shakes his head and rubs his face.

"What happened?"

"Nothin'," Billy mumbles. "Nothin'."

He looks up at Homelander, squinting his eyes like he's trying to figure something out about him. Then he gets up and stomps out of the room, so he probably hasn't figure it out.

Homelander and William exchange a look, William trying to keep his face blank and hoping beyond hope that Homelander can't tell that he's hiding something.

But Homelander just shrugs, "Temper tantrum, I guess. Well, let's finish your homework, yeah?"

William can do nothing but nod.


	18. The Penthouse: Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for past child abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art by koy_id!

Homelander gets home at around one in the morning, rubbing his eyes and yawning slightly. He's been awake for two weeks in a row, which even for him is a bit much, working to dismantle a renegade militia that splintered from ISIS, and the free time he had has been spent mostly with Billy.

Slipping out of the elevator, Homelander scans the penthouse to locate Billy, who’s, oddly enough, sleeping on a sofa in the library. He must have fallen asleep reading, because there's an open book on his chest, it's cover just tickling his chin. When Homelander walks into the library and leans down next to Billy, he sees that the black-haired man has been reading a book about Anti-Social Personality Disorder. Wonderful, Billy thinks he's a psychopath now.

"Hey there," Homelander whispers to Billy, carefully picking up the book and placing it on the table. He places his palm on the side of Billy's head gently and runs a thumb up and down the skin next to his closed eye.

Billy groans and turns in his sleep, burying his face in the cushions of the sofa, away from Homelander.

"Let's get you to bed, buddy," Homelander says briskly and picks Billy up in a princess hold, leaning his head on his shoulder. "Come on."

By the time Homelander gets Billy into bed, he's blinking awake, and staring up at Homelander.

"Bloody wonderful, you're back," Billy sneers, eyes heavy with sleep. He looks adorable.

Snorting in amusement, Homelander gets into bed besides Billy and curls around the man's still pliant body, "It's good to see you, too. Get back to sleep."

"Fuck of, Homelander."

Homelander grins and slumps his head on a pillow, pulling Billy along with him. Billy kicks him in the dick, but it's a half-hearted attempt at best, so Homelander ignores it and turns his eyes away from the body in his arms. Looking up at the blue sky painted on the ceiling, he suddenly wants to fly. He wants to take Billy out and show him how beautiful the world looks like from far away, when you can't see any of the mudpeople that taint it.

He looks back down at Billy, who's eyes have fluttered closed again, but he can tell by his breathing that Billy hasn't fallen back asleep yet. So he whispers, "Billy?"

"Wha, John?" Billy mumbles in response.

Homelander bites his lip, and nudges Billy with his nose.

"What?" Billy snaps. "What'd you want, Homelander?"

"Why do you do that?" Homelander asks. "Why do you call me John sometimes and Homelander other times? Why don't you just call me John?"

For a moment he waits silently for a response, and then Billy sits up, his hip against Homelander's chest, and looks down at him with a contemplative look, and then he sighs deeply and pushes a strand of Homelander's hair out of his forehead, and says, "I love John, you know."

"I know-"

"I ain't in love with you," Billy says softly, and just then there's a gust of wind from outside, making the curtains swish, and just for a moment moonlight pours into the bedroom, and illuminates Billy from behind. He looks like he's shining from inside, like he's surrounded by a cold halo, like he's a star. He's stunning at that moment, irresistible and otherworldly. And Homelander can tell that he's telling the truth when he says, "I love John."

"But I'm him," Homelander objects. "I'm John, I've always been John-"

But Billy just shakes his head, looking so sad that Homelander wants to scream. He's an angel, a beautiful, one of a kind angel, and angels shouldn't be sad. They should be alight with passion and pleasure, all the time.

"You ain't him," Billy replies. "He ain't never hurt me. Homelander hurt me."

Homelander swallows, "Is that…is that what you meant when you asked me not to leave you alone with Homelander?"

Billy frowns, "Bloody hell you talkin' about?"

"You- a while ago-you said-" Homelander blinks when he sees Billy's blank look and shakes his head. "Never mind."

"Right," Billy gives Homelander a look that suggests that he thinks Homelander has gone completely mad. And then the curtains move again and Billy is once more washed in moonlight.

"Hi," Homelander sits up. "Do you want to go flying?"

Billy blinks at him, "Fly where?"

Homelander shrugs, "Wherever you want."

"Yeah?" Billy tilts his head. "Take me to where Becca is."

"Goodnight, Billy."

*

"Remember the conversation we had last night?" Homelander asks while Billy steps out of the gym's shower. Unfortunately, he's already dressed, but he hasn't dried himself off very well, so his T-shirt sticks to his chest, his nipples clearly visible under the cloth. Homelander licks his lips and greedily takes in the sight while he waits for Billy to answer.

"No, I don’t," Billy says, sarcasm practically oozing from every word. "Since it was nearly_ ten_ bloody hours ago. My memory ain't _that_ good."

"All right, I get it," Homelander waves his hand. "Anyways, I was thinking that maybe we'd go flying?"

"To Becca?"

"Billy, I swear to Christ…"

Scowling, Billy tries to walk past him, but is stopped when Homelander grabs his forearm.

"Pick somewhere else," Homelander murmurs to his lover.

"No. If you ain't goin' to do what I want, why'd I do what you want, eh?"

Homelander hums in thought and replies, "Pick somewhere, or you'll spend the next two days locked in our suite. How about that?"

Billy bites his lip and sneers out, "And you'll make the grub? Bloody unlikely."

"I'll order pizza," Homelander replies. He knows Billy is stalling, so he there's nothing to do but wait for Billy to stop arguing and just give him an answer. Billy knows fully well that Homelander will easily carry out his threat. He has before, for longer.

Billy keeps biting his lip for a moment and then clears his throat and demands, "Take me to your home."

Homelander takes a step backwards, "What?"

"You heard me," Billy replies then taps Homelander's ear. "Yeah?"

"This is my home," Homelander mumbles, flicking Billy's fingers away. "It's yours as well-"

"That ain't what I mean," Billy interrupts quietly. "And you know it. Show me where you grew up."

Homelander shakes his head, "No. Pick something else."

"You asked me to pick something, cunt. I picked," _Now the ball's in your court_, his tone adds. And despite the fear churning through his gut, Homelander can't _not_ respond to the unspoken challenge.

"Ok," Homelander breathes out. "Come on, let's go."

*

Homelander gently places Billy on the ground and slips his hand into the man's. His heart is pounding slightly, but he's not entirely sure if it's fear or excitement that is making him feel this way, and he frankly has no desire to find out which it is.

They're standing in the middle of a forest, the peaceful sounds of the animals and rustling leaves doing nothing to calm Homelander down. In front of them is a wooden cabin. Or, well, a cabin that just looks like it's made of wood. It's actually just the outside sections of the cabin that are wood, on the inside it's reinforced by zinc and various other metals. Which means Homelander can't see what's going on inside there.

Has it changed? Is it the same? Has Vogelbaum used the cabin to raise any other supes? That last thought makes Homelander want to throw up.

"Come on," Billy says briskly, trying to walk towards the cabin. Homelander, though, tightens his hold on Billy's hand and plants his feet into the mud. Billy sighs in clear exasperation and turns to look at him, "What?"

Homelander shakes his head, "This is pointless. Let's just-"

"Bloody coward, ain't you?"

Homelander glares, "I'm not."

"No? Prove it."

Homelander looks at the cabin and then allows Billy to tug him towards it. They walk up to the rotten door and Billy tries to open it, but it doesn't move. He then tries to smash the door with his body, but it doesn’t do anything, naturally. It's made of metal inside. Billy's strong, for a human, but still.

He is a human.

Billy turns to Homelander and motions at the door with a blank expression.

"D'you mind?"

Hiding a smile (it's hard for Billy to ask for help, he's not going to make it even harder on him by showing how amusing he finds it), Homelander gives the door a soft kick, sending it flying off its hinges. As the entrance to the cabin opens, Homelander is overwhelmed by the scents that come rushing out at him. There's the musky smell of an abandoned building, which does calm Homelander down a bit, though the rest of the smells chases the calm right out of his mind.

There's the sickly-sweet smell of Compound-V, the sterilized fragment of medical appliances and the very specific scent of metal rooms. All together the combined scents scream out to Homelander.

Home, prison, both.

Homelander hears a whimper, and since Billy is looking at him with his mouth closed, it must have come from him. He wants to leave, he doesn’t want to be hear, doesn’t want Billy tainted by this disgusting, disgusting place. He's killed Vogelbaum, it's supposed to be over. He isn’t supposed to feel this way, this cold and frightened and small, ever again.

"Billy, let's go," Homelander hiccups out, feeling tears prickle his eyes. They start running down his cheeks and he shivers, taking a few steps backwards.

Billy moves with him, and places his hand around Homelander's neck. He presses their foreheads together and whispers, "It's all right."

"No-"

"Oi, listen here. It's all right, you ain't alone, yeah? I'm right here. Come on."

"I don't want to go in," Homelander's knees are shaking. He wants to grab Billy and carry him away from this place, but even though his mind keeps telling his body to do that, his legs don't seem to be listening. "Please-"

"I'll be with you," Billy whispers. "You can bloody well do it, John."

Homelander moves away from Billy to look him in the eye. Billy smiles gently, caressing the back of Homelander's neck.

"C'mon, John," Billy takes hold of Homelander's hand and leads him into the cabin. This time, Homelander lets him.

It's not so bad, at first. He follows Billy into a dark, sterile and white hallway with metal doors on either side. Homelander has only ever seen this hallway once, when he was eighteen and let out of the cabin for the first time in his life. He's never been back there since.

Billy opens each and every door, but the first six are just observation rooms with huge screens Homelander assumes used to show the lab he was raised in. The seventh door leads to a lounge where the scientists probably rested after finishing electrocuting Homelander, and the eighth is full of shelves of medicines.

Or at least what looks like bottles of medicines. But when Billy walks into the room and takes one bottle out, he glares at it and says softly, "That’s ricin pills."

Homelander snorts, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Billy looks up at him, "They poisoned you?"

He shrugs. Probably, though he has no way to be sure. He took a lot of pills, back in the day. Most were probably poison, what else could they be? It wasn't like he needed steroids or anything like that.

"Bloody fuck," Billy murmurs, and carefully puts the bottle back into place. He glares at the bottle as if he's personally offended by it (maybe he is, though Homelander would have no idea why) and walks out of the room. He closes the door carefully, as if the room behind it is full of explosives instead of pills and carefully stored gasses, and then gives Homelander an odd look that Homelander can't really read. Before he has time to figure it out, though, the look slips off Billy's face and he keeps on walking.

When the next door opens, Homelander freezes.

"No, no," He shakes his head. No, Billy can't be here, he can't. It's not safe here.

"Why?" Billy asks. "You scared?"

He's terrified, but he can't tell Billy that. Handing Billy fear is like handing a pyromaniac a match. There's absolutely no way he won't use it, and no way he won't use it for destruction.

"I'm not scared," Homelander sneers. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Billy nods and walks into the room. It's round with a white tiled floor and white-washed walls. There are two metal chairs sitting in front of a glass window that shows a large chamber where Homelander spent the majority of his childhood.

Billy walks straight to the door leading to that chamber, and Homelander allows himself to be led there, feet moving without his express permission. He looks around the chamber and swallows.

The metal bed frame is still there, but the thin mattress and pillow has been removed, and of course so has the blue blanket that used to lay on it. He knows where the blanket is, Vogelbaum had given it to Vought and it somehow made its way to the Homelander's fake childhood home. Homelander doesn’t know why Vogelbaum gave the blanket away, but he tries not to think about it. Like many things, it just hurts when he does.

"I used to sleep here," Homelander mumbles, moving towards the bed and sitting down on the cold metal. He's let go of Billy's hand to do so, and watches as Billy looks around the chamber. Homelander glances at the window, at the two metal chairs. He can remember Vogelbaum sitting there for hours, watching him with narrowed eyes and scribbling in his notebooks. Sometimes he'd stop and smile at Homelander when Homelander waved at him. When Homelander was very little, he'd play peek-a-boo with him, and when het got older he'd tell him stories, mostly Bible stories about how great God is and how great Homelander is as well, as God's chosen vessel of strength.

Billy walks over to the opposite side of the chamber and taps on the toilet and the douche hanging from the ceiling, "You showered here?"

"I was here all the time," Homelander mumbles, then frowns. "Well, not all the time."

Ignoring that, Billy settles down on the table that's next to the bed and runs his palms on the metal surface. He seems to need to touch everything, to get an impression of the room under his fingers. "Two chairs. Why?"

Homelander swallows, "Vogelbaum ate with me sometimes."

"Did you like that?" Billy tilts his head, fingers now moving to the wall, tracing the lines Homelander had made with his fingernails. The one Billy is touching was meant to be a chicken, but Homelander had been small when he made it, so it ended up looking more like a ball with a beak. And also, the only chicken he'd ever seen was from a picture book. Vogelbaum got him a photo-album with pictures of actual animals, but that was years later. It had been horrifying, to realize that the cartoon animals weren't the real thing. His whole perception of the creatures had needed to change.

"Those were the best, yeah."

Billy doesn’t respond to that, at least not right away. First, he traces a few more of the cracks in the wall, and then gets down on his knees to peer under the bed. Homelander does the same, and sees that Slink is still there: a piece that had been torn off of Gummy that Homelander had managed to hide. He never took him out, but he'd lay in bed at night and talk to Slink in his mind.

When Billy peers back up, he says, "Me dad once threw me into the wall."

Homelander's fists clench, "I'm going to kill him, then."

"Already a goner," Billy replies, which is unfortunate. "I balled me eyes out when they told me."

Homelander swallows, thinking about Vogelbaum. He wants Billy to say it, to tell him that he understands loving a father who hurts you, but Billy doesn't say anything. He just sits there and waits for Homelander to take the reins of the conversation.

"When I was a baby I was in a different room," Homelander mumbles, unable to do what Billy is asking for. He can't tell Billy how much it hurts; how much he misses Vogelbaum. He can't. Billy can't see how weak Homelander is, right now. He won't feel safe anymore if Homealnder shows him that. "It was empty and there was a window in the door, so I had to look up to see people when they looked in on me. I had a blanket."

Billy nods slowly, "And when you were a lad?"

"Still had the blanket," Homelander replies. "I also had a few books. And Gummy."

"Gummy?" Billy grins, looking ridiculously amused.

"A stuffed dog," Homelander mumbles, closing his eyes. He can remember the soft feeling of Gummy in his arms as he lay in the bed, huddled into himself. He was the only thing that was soft in the room.

"Where's he, then?"

Turning away from Billy, Homelander shrugs. He doesn’t want to tell Billy.

"John…" Fingers run through Homelander's hair. "What happened?"

"I, um, not sure," Homelander mumbles. "I think I had a nightmare? I woke up and Gummy had burst, he was all over the room, I guess I squeezed him too hard in my sleep. His head was in the toilet."

He grins, but Billy doesn’t smile back.

"They ain't give you another one?"

Well, that makes the smile slip away ridiculously quickly.

"Well?"

Homelander shakes his head, "Vogelbaum wanted to teach me to control my strength, you see. He said that if I can't be trusted with a doll, he won't give me another one."

Billy lets out a small growl, "Cone on. Show me the rest, yeah?"

Homelander shakes his head and grabs Billy's shoulder, "I showed you enough. Let's go back home."

"We ain't done," Billy replies. "You ain't gonna stop before we are, are you?"

Billy's eyebrow is nearly at his hair line, and Homelander really can't argue with the sly smile on his face. He lets Billy get him up from the metal bed and gladly is taken out of the room.

The observation chamber has four doors leading out of it. One leads to Homelander's bedroom, and the other three are metal doors with small glass windows located at an adult man's eye-level. Billy walks to the first door, and peers into the window. And then he lets out a very cockney-sounding curse and backs away from the door.

"Why…" Billy clears his throat. "Why's a bloody electrocution chair in there?"

"That was for me," Homelander mumbles. "To see how much I could take."

"And…the water tank?"

"T'see how long I could go without breathing," Homelander smirks in pride. "I could go for hours. I could probably do more, but I never tried."

"And the bloody hooks on the ceiling?"

"Literally bloody?"

"Aye, that too," Billy grits out. "Did they dangle you from the ceiling, then?"

Homelander shrugs, "That chamber's the one I was born in. I think I was two when they took me out of it and put me in the other one. It was empty back then. Just me and the blue blanket. I'm not actually sure how they fed me…"

Billy shakes his head, biting his lip hard. He continues to search the rooms, letting out curses every time he finds another one of the…things used on Homelander during his childhood.

(He knows he should probably just call them torture devices, but he really can't. They're just things, they were never what hurt him the most. Vogelbaum was the one who could claim that title. Every fucking time.)

Billy asks a few questions while he studies the rooms carefully. How often did they engage in these activities with Homelander? He's not sure, there was never any rhyme or reason to Vogelbaum's actions. Homelander never got food on a schedule, and there was no passage of days in his rooms, no sun, the light would go on and off at random times, so there was never any real way to keep track of time.

Well, Billy continues, how did he learn to speak? How did he learn to read and write? That one is easy. Through the window, mostly. Vogelbaum would come into the room, but only when he was older, from age four or something.

Why so late? That one is even easier. Homelander was far too strong, Vogelbaum couldn't trust him not to accidently kill anyone that came into the room.

At that, Billy tilts his head and replies, "That ain't true. Look at William."

"Well, remember what he told us? That he accidently killed his cat?" Homelander asks, thinking about the story he and Billy had found out about in Becca's home that first day they met the boy.

"William spent his entire life out of cage, eh? And he may have killed the cat but he ain't kill no blokes or birds."

Homelander frowns, "You've changed your tone a bit. Weren't you the one who said that William should be locked up?"

Or something. It was a while ago; he doesn’t remember what Billy said exactly. Whatever it was, it had made Becca _pretty_ upset with him.

Billy shuffles his feet a bit and then mumbles, "That was a bloody long while ago."

"And you care about William now."

"And I know the bloody alternative," Billy adds, indicating the white rooms with his eyes. He rubs his face and steps towards Homelander, and Homelander melts into his touch as Billy takes hold of fistfuls of his hair and tugs his head down to rest on Billy's shoulder.

"Can we go now, pleased?" Homelander pleads, not caring that he sounds like a pathetic child.

He feels Billy sigh and then a soft kiss on his ear, "Yeah, all right, then."

*

The next week is…odd. To start with, Homelander spends more time then normal watching William and noticing things that he never had before. Like the fact that Billy never holds William's hand when the boy drifts into sleep, even when William waves his hand in the air, sleepily asking for Billy's touch.

At first Homelander can't explain it, given how tender and loving Billy is with William the rest of the time. But during his observations of William, Homelander realizes that in his sleep the child clenches his fists together in a vice hard enough to break all the bones in Billy's hand if it's ever trapped in it. 

He also notices that William, like most boys (all boys? Homelander isn't entirely sure, he doesn’t have that much experience with kids), gets angry once in a while. Not so often, mostly William's go-to reaction when he's upset is to get sad, not mad. But when he does, he does the clenched-fist thing, takes a few deep breathes and calms himself down. Sometimes Billy helps, distracting William with a quip or, on the rare occasions when William gets really, really mad, just leaves the room. But William never explodes, never breaks anything. He always manages to get a grip on himself, sometimes seemingly at the last second.

It's incredibly weird. Homelander has no idea how he does it, neither he nor Billy have the ability to calm themselves down like that. But it disturbs him. Because no matter how William got this ability, the point is he _has it_. A child as powerful as Homelander was at his age, and he isn't a danger to Billy, who's as weak as Vogelbaum was.

So, why did Homelander have to spend his life in a cage?

Homelander doesn’t want to think about it.

In an attempt to distract himself from all these odd things and odd feelings, Homelander spends more time then normal fucking Billy. Which is nice, because Billy is more open to said fuckings then he ever has in the penthouse.

Though, there the second odd thing comes in.

Billy's anger and hatred has not diminished, not even a bit. He curses at Homelander, sneers and fights him over seemingly every tiny little thing, constantly standing in front of William as if he thinks Homelander will actually hurt him. Homelander can still see how much Billy hates him, when their eyes meet. And during their sexual encounters, around half the time it's the normal aggressive and furious fucking, where Homelander has to fight to get Billy to accept even the tiniest bit of pleasure. But the other half…

During the other half, Billy is _gentle_. He kisses tenderly and blows Homelander until the man comes into his mouth and Billy swallows it all up, eyes locked on Homelander as he sucks him dry. He doesn’t let Homelander take him from behind, instead insisting on riding Homelander, palms laying open on Homelander's chest, thrusting himself up and down and making soft, sweet little whimpers.

Homelander lets him. During those nights, he doesn’t say a word, and allows Billy to maneuver him and take control. He lays there, looking up at Billy as he's ridden or down at him while he's blown, kisses Billy back when Billy pushes their mouths together, but doesn't increase the speed or slips his tongue in, waiting for Billy to do that first.

And whenever Billy comes on those nights, he whispers out, _John_, and Homelander cries. But Billy just shushes him gently, and he falls asleep curling Billy into his lap.

The orgasms during those nights are around a hundred times better than the others. It's so much better that Homelander finds himself almost entirely giving up on sex on the nights when it's clear he won't be getting the tender touches.

It's an _odd _week.


	19. The Penthouse: Part 6

"Take me to London," Billy says as soon as he comes into Homelander's office.

Raising an eyebrow, Homelander closes the Word document he's been going over (it's talking points for an interview he's supposed to do with Jimmy Kimmel about a town in Japan that he'd helped evacuate following a hurricane) and swirls his chair around to look at Billy.

Who just raises his own eyebrow in response and leans on the door frame, clearly waiting. He's wearing a pair of black leather pants that hug his frame in a way that Billy is probably unaware of. There's no way he'd have put those pants on if he knew how tight they are.

"Said you'd take me flying, yeah? Take me to London."

"I already took you flying," Homelander replies, stomach churning at the memory of their 'outing' three weeks earlier.

"Oh, I didn't realize it was a bloody _one-time deal_."

"It's not," Homelander sighs and rubs his face. "Why London?"

"D'I owe you a bloody explanation?" Billy growls. It's only then that Homelander notices that Billy's eyes are slightly wider than normal and his heart is beating just a _tiny_ bit faster. There's something bothering him.

"No, you don’t," Homelander says hurriedly, before Billy decides to clam down and declare that never mind, he doesn’t need to leave the penthouse and fuck you, Homelander, Billy's going to go into the gym and ignore you for the next few hours. "Let's go to London."

Billy nods and stomps out of the office. When Homelander joins him in their dressing room he finds Billy slipping on both a sweater and jacket. Homelander watches Billy get dressed and tilts his head slightly, listening to the sound of William's soft breathing. It's the middle of the night, so they're safe to leave. William isn't going to wake up for a few hours yet.

"That’s smart, it can be cold over the-"

"Shut it," Billy replies shortly, putting on gloves and a grey beanie hat. He looks adorable, Homelander just wants to eat him up. "Let's go."

He'll eat Billy up later. Or, well, maybe eat him out.

*

"Ah…" Homelander blinks as he puts Billy down. They're in a prison graveyard, of all places, standing in front of a long line of white wooden crosses, each with a name itched on it. There are no dates anywhere to be seen. Homelander supposes that the people who erect these crosses don't care enough to do that. And given the fact that only prisoners with no families to claim the bodies are buried here, Homelander can't blame them. "What are w-"

Billy waves his hand dismissively, making Homelander close his mouth. Sometimes Billy's commanding presence makes Homelander unable to _not _do as he says. Instead, he follows Billy through the lines of white crosses. They walk in silence for a few moments, Homelander feeling entranced by Billy's form as it moves in front of him. Not because of the leather pants- ok, well, a bit because of that- but because as Billy walks, he does so with a strength and grace that Homelander finds hypnotizing. When Billy knows what he wants and goes to get it, he's irresistible.

"There," Billy murmurs, low enough that Homelander wouldn't have been able to hear if not for his superhearing, and comes to a stop.

Softly, Homelander moves to stand next to Billy, peering at the cross that Billy had stopped in front of. And there, in bold letters is written _Ethan Robert Butcher. _

Homelander swallows and moves slightly behind Billy to wrap his arms around the man's middle. Billy, who Homelander had expected to try and move away, melts into Homelander's hold, letting the blond take on most of his weight.

"Your father?" Homelander whispers into Billy's ear. When Billy nods hesitantly, he sighs and kisses the back of his head. "Can I take his body out and destroy it, please?"

"No."

He can tell by Billy's tone that that answer is nonnegotiable.

"That what you did with yours?" Billy asks suddenly.

"What I did with my what?" Homelander frowns.

"Your pop's body."

Homelander swallows and tightens his hold on Billy.

"Well?"

"I…it's gone. There's nothing left. I crushed the bones and burned the meat into ashes. He's gone."

"That don't make you feel better, do it?"

"It felt good, killing him," Homelander replies. "It felt really, really good."

"Well, you_ are_ a nutter," Billy sounds resigned at that.

"And you're not?"

Billy growls, but doesn’t try to argue the point.

After a few moments of silence Homelander asks hesitantly, "Why did you decide to ask me to take you here? Why now?"

He can feel Billy shiver in his arms, and then Billy whispers, "It happened today."

"Today is the anniversary of your dad's death?"

Billy nods.

"I've never heard you talk about that before," Homelander points out, remembering one time this date has passed while he and Billy were together, and three that passed when he was with Becca. Billy hadn't mentioned the anniversary of his father's death on any of those four days. "W-"

Billy shakes his head, "He ain't that bad."

"He was," Homelander snaps. "You told me that he broke your arm."

Billy just shrugs in response, and that makes a horrifying thought flash through his mind.

"Wait, Billy, are you saying that because of…of the cabin?"

He doesn’t get a reply for that.

"Billy," Homelander gives him a small shake. "Is that what you think?"

"Let's get back," Billy replies. "Or William will wake up alone."

And that wouldn't be good, Homelander muses as he picks Billy up and takes off into the sky. William might be scared without Billy, and Billy doesn’t want William scared.

After William goes to school the next morning, Homelander goes back to the prison graveyard. He digs Billy's father out of his grave and does to his body what he did to Vogelbaum's. He feels slightly better when he gets back to Billy and paints circles on his belly with his father's ashes. Billy isn't pleased, but Homelander comes hard into him at the sight.

*

Homelander sits in his office, drumming his fingers on his desk while he watches the feed from Billy's necklace. He could be watching the cameras he has in the gym, where Billy is at the moment, but this is more intimate, seeing what Billy is seeing. He can sense Billy's chest going up and down with the camera as he hits the punching bag, fury clear in his movements.

Once in a while he does turn over to the gym cameras, to see the way Billy's black tank top clings to his body by sweat, the way his muscles flex and ripple. Homelander licks his lips at the sight. He slips his hand into the pants of his suit and tugs at his dick-

And then the door flies open.

Homelander rolls his eyes as Mr. Edger stumbles in, and considers taking his hand out. But then Billy hits the bag so hard it bursts, and the furious beauty of his rage makes him almost irresistibly attractive, and Homelander doesn’t want to resist it, so he keeps his hand in his pants and starts running his fingers up and down.

"Homelander," Mr. Edger's heart is beating quickly. His eyes flicker to the computer screen and he shakes his head. "Turn that off, we need to talk."

"Talk then," Homelander mumbles, grabbing his dick as Billy starts kicking around the sand that pours from the bag, face red from fury.

"You-"

"I'm listening, I'm listening," Homelander rolls his eyes as he pumps. "Speak."

"The Legend is dead."

Homelander's hand stills on his dick and he slips it out, leaning forward in his chair, "How."

"His dick and neck were broken, by a supe."

Homelander rubs his face, "Right."

"And we lost the Asian girl," Mr. Edger adds. "It seems that Butcher's team freed her."

"You think she killed The Legend."

"That does seem like a very logical conclusion. Don't you agree?" Mr. Edger's eyes narrow and Homelander sighs, turning the computer screen off.

"What is it that you want to say?"

"Did you tell Butcher about The Legend?" Mr. Edger asks bluntly.

Homelander lets out an aggravated sigh, "And why the fuck do you think I would do that?"

Mr. Edger sits down in front of Homelander, "I don't know what goes on in that penthouse of yours. I don't know what it is you want, I cannot understand why you would want to be with a man like Butcher, when you could have any person you could possibly want. Someone who would make you look good to the public. So, no, I don't know why you would tell Butcher about The Legend, I don't know if you did-"

"I didn't," Homelander snaps. "I have no interest in hurting Vought, understand?"

Mr. Edger nods thoughtfully, and then says, "I was going to have The Legend write a backstory for Butcher. But he hasn't written it yet. And now he's dead, and he can't anymore."

"So?"

"So," Mr. Edger says slowly. "I think we should rethink our tactic-"

"No."

"Homelander-"

"No."

"I think we need Becca Butcher-"

"Saunders. Becca _Saunders_," Homelander lets his eyes go red, but Mr. Edger doesn’t even blink. "And we don't need her. She was just a walking womb."

"She's William's mother, and the public would find it much easier for swallow her then Butcher-"

Homelander slams his fist on the desk, breaking it in half. The computer, papers and the picture of Billy he has on it all fall down to the floor, landing with a loud crash. Mr. Edger just raises an eyebrow.

"We are not bringing Becca into this," Homelander sneers. "And I will never, ever, ever pretend to be in relationship with anyone ever again. I gave you nearly six years of Queen Maeve. I am done lying for you."

"Lying? Your whole life is a lie. We all lie, all the time, to protect you in the rest of the Seven. Am I really asking for some much in return?"

"Yes."

Mr. Edger nods, thoughtfully, and then stands up and brushes down his suit.

"Good to know," He says coldly. "We'll talk more later. Go back to…doing whatever it is you were doing."

He walks out of the room. Homelander stands there for a moment, watching Mr. Edger's back until he disappears. And then he flies out of the window.

He's suddenly scared, worry gnawing inside of him. He's not sure how Mr. Edger would be able to get into his penthouse, but he's suddenly afraid that he somehow had been able to and has hurt Billy.

Homelander can't relax as he stomps into the elevator, limbs shaking. He flies through the penthouse, up the stairs and into the swimming pool. And then he stops.

Billy is in the pool, swimming back and forth ridiculously fast. His muscles flex and his pale skin shines in the water. Homelander takes a deep breath, calming himself down. Billy is fine, he's right there. No one has hurt him, no one has touched him.

"Billy," Homelander breathes out, flying right into the pool. He perches above the water, letting only the soles of his feet get wet, like Jesus. Billy swerves around, treading water as he looks up at Homelander. Water drips down from his hair to his shoulders and face, and Homelander follows the track of one drop as it hits the pool, rejoining the rest of the water.

"Fuckin' hell," Billy growls. "Thought I had a few more hours free from you. Should warn me if you're gonna show up earlier."

Ignoring that for a moment, Homelander grabs Billy under his armpits and raises him from the water. Billy kicks the air in protest, getting Homelander completely wet, so Homelander lets them both fall into the water. He holds on to Billy, keeping his chest above the water, slightly above Homelander, and wraps his arms around his middle.

"What happened?" Billy asks, trying to pull away from Homelander, a frown on his face. "You look like a nutter."

"Billy," Homelander tightens his hold on the black-haired man.

"Yeah?" Billy asks, the frown never leaving his face.

"I'm not going to let anyone take you away from me," Homelander tells him. "No one."

Billy's expression clouds over, "You made that real clear."

"I love you," Homelander kisses Billy's forehead, which makes him growl. "I'll keep you safe-"

"Why'd you need to?" Billy demands. "Who d'you think is gonna try and hurt me?"

"It doesn’t matter," Homelander replies. He's not an idiot. Billy is far too intelligent to be given any more information then is needed. Homelander has no idea what Billy could do with the information that Mr. Edger is after him, but Homelander isn't going to risk finding out. "I'm going to protect you. You don't need to know-"

"If you think I'm in danger, then I bloody well deserve to know why," Billy slinks his hands around Homelander's neck, trying to pull himself out of the water.

"If I could trust you, I would tell you," Homelander mumbles, kissing Billy's neck.

"Oh, you don't trust me?" Billy snorts, moving away from Homelander's mouth.

"Of course not."

"Smart," Billy replies, turning to glare at Homelander. "Can you let go? I was in the middle of my bloody exercise."

Homelander grins, suddenly so overwhelmed by love he can't breathe.

"I love you so much," He repeats. "And I'm not going to let anyone touch you. I'll kill every single human on earth if you're taken from me."

Billy just stares at him, eyes narrowed, and then he presses their foreheads together.

"Tell me what's wrong?" Billy asks softly.

"I wish I could," Homelander shakes his head. "I really do."

"Why can't you?"

"I don't…I can't trust you," Homelander replies, and closes his eyes when he feels Billy caress his cheek. "You want to get away. I'm not going to help you do that."

Billy winces, which is not a good sign. But then he kisses Homelander's forehead gently, which is. Homelander melts into his touch, and decides to let go of the bad sign when the good sign turns into a deeper kiss.

Giving up entirely, Homelander cups Billy's ass in his hands and squeezes, which makes Billy groan softly and grab Homelander's hair. He pulls Homelander against him and tilts his head to deepen their kiss.

"Hey," Homelander nudges Billy's nose with his own. "You said you were in the middle of exercise. Well, let me give you a better one."

Billy grins evilly and ducks down again.

While Billy slips his tongue into Homelander's mouth, Homelander splits Billy's ass cheeks with his thumbs, rubbing the familiar hole he finds there, which makes Billy hiss and push away from Homelander.

"What?" Homelander asks, widening his eyes innocently. Not giving Billy time to response, he swims with the two of them to the pool edge and props Billy up on it, his belly on the floor and his ass in the air. Only his legs are still in the water, and he uses them to kick water up at Homelander as he tries to sit up.

Homelander puts his hand on Billy's back, keeping him in place as he uses the other one to tug Billy's blue bathing suit off. It's not particularly easy to do, given Billy's thrusting and furious struggling is making water hit Homelander constantly, blinding him for seconds at a time.

But the bathing suit does go down in the end, and Homelander throws it away carelessly.

"Homelander…" Billy says warningly, but there's a quiver in his voice and he's shaking slightly. Homelander hums as he trails a hand down Billy's ass and down to his dick. And-yup, it's not entirely flaccid. "Don't."

"Shh," Homelander kisses the back of Billy's neck and carefully takes the hand holding Billy down away. Billy stays in place, keeping his breathing even. "It's going to be good; you'll see."

"Fuck off," Billy snaps in response, but he doesn’t move.

Homelander grins and places both of his hands on Billy's ass cheeks, spreading it. Billy and Homelander both hiss as Billy's pink hole is exposed to Homelander's hungry eyes. Homelander licks his lip and ducks in.

"Fuck! Bloody fuck!" Billy yells out when Homelander laps with his tongue at Billy, wiggling it around to get as far in as he can.

"You taste so good," Homelander groans, licking Billy's left ass cheek a few times before going back to work.

He draws circles with his tongue inside of Billy, slipping as far as he can and burying his nose inside. His hands hold Billy's ass in place, but he doesn’t really need to, because it doesn’t take long before Billy is thrusting into him, groaning softly with his body shivering.

Though, during the whole process, Billy keeps kicking Homelander in the chest and dick. Which is not good. He's probably bruised his feet in this struggle.

While he sucks Billy in, Homelander smells the beginning of an orgasm. Homelander considers not stopping, just continuing to eat Billy out. He's capable of coming just from that, it's been proven multiple times before. But then the pool water will have sperm in it and the cleaners are only coming in two days. And no _way_ is Homelander letting Billy swim in sperm-infested water. Gross.

So he flips Billy over, and grabs his knees. He spreads his legs and wedges himself in between them, his chest colliding with Billy's rock-hard erection. Immediately, Billy wraps his legs around Homelander and pulls himself up on his elbows.

"You ok there, buddy?" Homelander grins, rubbing Billy's leaking tip with his thumb.

Billy just shakes his head, then hisses when Homelander takes hold of the tip of his dick with both thumbs, rubbing it in between them, "You bloody _cunt_."

"Aha," Homelander rolls his eyes and swallows Billy up in one go. He groans slightly at the musky taste.

"Don't-" Billy gaps, trying to pull away. "Stop-"

But then he comes into Homelander's mouth and Homelander swallows every drop of his come as soon as it leaks out of Billy's dick. He keeps sucking Billy off even after he's been milked dry and has gone flaccid again, finding the rhythmic motion of sucking somehow calming. Billy struggles to get away, but Homelander tightens his hold on him, keeping him in place.

Eventually, though, Homelander gives Billy one last lick and then pops the member out of his mouth. He looks up at Billy, finding his eyes closed and body swaying slightly.

"Tired?" Homelander murmurs softly, pushing out of the water and taking Billy up in his arms.

In response, Billy spits in his face.

"Charming," Homelander grins and hoists Billy on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you dressed."

"If you hadn't thrown my bloody-"

"I know, I know," Homelander kisses Billy's neck, trying to soothe him.

Shockingly, it doesn’t work.

*

William bursts into the den, rushing right to Billy where he sits on a fainting couch.

"Hullo, William," Billy taps the boy's head and picks up the remote for the TV. "How was school?"

William huddles into himself and looks up at Homelander. He frowns, "How did you get up here so fast?"

Homelander, who'd been reading the New York Time, puts the newspaper down and glares at the boy. What the fuck is he talking about? "What do you mean?"

William shrinks away, "I just…you were just down at the street with me."

"I wasn't-"

"Homelander," Billy's eyes widen and he leans forward on the couch. "What the _fuck_?"

Homelander turns to the TV, and stills.

There, on the BBC, is Homelander. Walking out of William's school with William and a petite blond woman.

"What the fuck…" Homelander stands up, moving towards the screen. In the video, William looks skittish and concerned, Homelander's hand seated on his shoulder, and the woman, smiling and blushing prettily, is holding Homelander's other hand. They walk out of the school, hand in hand, like a perfect little family. The video is shaky, like it was taken from someone's phone.

No. No, _no_, no, _no_.

"Seven member Homelander was caught outside of the Vought School for Gifted Children with an unknown woman and child-" The news anchor says. But he hasn't, he hadn't. He wouldn’t.

What's going on?

"Speculation is rising over who these people are and Homelander's connection to them-"

He thinks of Mr. Edger, about his request that Homelander would bring Becca back. About how the media would accept her much easier-

But Homelander hasn't done this. He wouldn't.

"Homelander is known for doing volunteer work with children-"

Homelander screams, and punches the TV. William screams as well, his scream one of fear while Homelander's is of fury, but his voice is cut off, and when Homelander turns, glass hitting his back, he sees that Billy has placed his hand over William's mouth to quiet him down. Billy looks nervous, hunching over William protectively.

Ignoring Billy, Homelander stomps over to William and grabs his shirt.

"Homelander- leave him alone," Billy tries to push Homelander away. Homelander growls at Billy and pushes him away in turn. He's much more successful. 

"Who was it?" Homelander shakes the whimpering and shivering boy.

"Homelander!"

Homelander puts his hand up to stop Billy, "Tell me who that was!"

"It was you," William whimpers. "You came to pick me up, you said to just walk back home with you and that woman and not say anything-"

"No, I was here," Homelander yells, throwing William down. "I was up here with Billy! Billy-"

"Fuck off," Billy snaps, pulling William against him. "Are you all right, William? Did he hurt you?"

"No, he just scared me," William mumbles, hugging onto Billy's waist.

"Billy, I was up here with you," Homelander begs.

"You left," Billy replies. "Half an hour ago, wanker."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I was up here with you!"

But Billy doesn’t respond, just takes William's hand and storms out of the room with him.

Homelander stands there for a moment, and then screams.

This is Mr. Edger. He doesn't know how, but Mr. Edger did this somehow. Homelander thinks about the video. Was he there? It seemed like him. No, it _was_ him. But it couldn't be.

It couldn't.

Was he going mad? Was Mr. Edger making him go mad? Homelander groans, rubbing his face. If that's true, then he can't trust himself anymore.

No, he can trust himself. The person he can't trust is Mr. Edger.

He can't trust Vought anymore. He never should have trusted them. He should have known that Vought would never let him have Billy. He should have known he can't trust Mr. Edger, why did he ever trust him? Hadn't he learned his lesson? Vogelbaum, Madelyn, Mr. Edger. Vought can't be trusted.

No one can be trusted. He can't trust anyone but himself.

*

"What did you _do_?" Homelander yells as he slams the door to Mr. Edger's office open, throwing it off it's hedges.

Mr. Edger jumps up, moving just in time for the door to miss flattening him against the wall. He glares at Homelander, and then looks behind him, probably to see where his guards are.

"They're all dead," Homelander says. "So, we can talk."

"You killed my guards?" Mr. Edger growls. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, oh! What am _I_ doing?" Homelander laughs, shaking his head in fury.

"Homelander-"

"What did you do? How did you make it look like I picked William up from school? Who is that bitch, what the fuck are you up to?"

Mr. Edger takes a deep breath, "I asked you to bring Becca to New York. Remember-"

"How did you _do it_?" Homelander bellows.

The man wipes off his suit, "I told you I had ways of keeping you under control. You should have listened to me. I would recommend, next time you are asked to do something, to just do it. Now, that young lady was chosen by Vought, since you seem so against using Becca Butcher, to act as William's mother. We don't actually have to announce you as a couple. We could say that you were once together and now separated. But we can't use Butcher, Homelander. I have no way of-"

Homelander flies away.

*

Becca is asleep when Homelander sneaks into her cell. The other women are, as well, but Homelander ignores them. He settles down on the floor next to Becca and places a hand on her mouth.

Becca wakes up immediately, eyes wide and body thrusting. But Homelander puts a hand on her chest, keeping her in place. Becca stills and turns to look at Homelander.

"Shh," Homelander takes his hand off Becca's chest and places his finger over his mouth. "Quiet, ok?"

Becca nods, and Homelander smirks, freeing her mouth.

"Are…are you here to kill me?" Becca whispers.

"Yup," Homelander confirms.

Taking a deep breath, Becca pushes herself up slightly, her useless legs dragging with her, and rubs her eyes, trying to stop tears from trickling down. 

"I'm not going to beg you," She says softly. "I don't want to die but…I'm not giving you the satisfaction."

"That's fine," Homelander waves his hand. "Killing you will be satisfaction enough."

Becca nods, looking away, "You know, I was happy. For a long time, I was happy. I was happy growing up, I was happy with Billy. I was happy with William. I've been miserable these past few months, because of you."

"And now I'm going to take away your life," Homelander replies. "So, I win."

"No, you lose," Becca smiles. "You don’t get it, do you? When your life was meaningful, the end doesn’t matter as much. You can control my death, but my life was mine. And it was Billy's. I loved him, he loved me, the way our love ended doesn’t matter. Because I love him. I will love him in death. And he knows."

"Well, he doesn’t love you."

"Doesn’t he?"

Homelander shakes his head, and tells her, "Well, yes, he does. But he loves you because he wants to love you. Because you're good and kind and normal, and he wants to be good and kind and normal."

"That's true," Becca replies. "He loves me because he doesn’t want to love you. But doesn't that make you think? Doesn’t that show you how much he hates you, how much he hates the fact that he loves you?"

"I don't care," Homelander replies, honestly. "I don't care what else goes on in his mind as long as he loves me."

Becca leans her head on the wall, "You're sick."

"I've heard that before."

"Just…" Becca takes a deep breath. "Before you kill me, will you let me talk to my son?"

"William is fine," Homelander replies, standing up.

"But-"

"I don’t want you talking to him."

"I thought so," Becca says bitterly. "But will you at least tell him that I love him?"

"No reason."

"You owe me that-"

"I don’t owe you anything," Homelander replies.

But when he does kill her, he does so by snapping her neck. A painless, quick death. She had, for a while, made his Billy happy. For that, he doesn't torture her to death.

It's the only thing he can bring himself give her.

*

Homelander makes his way back to the penthouse. Before he goes in, he hovers above the building, looking inside. Billy is looking out the window, twirling his fingers together.

For a moment Homelander looks at Billy, letting his presence calm Homelander down. But then he remembers something.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Vought knows where William's school is. He knows where the penthouse is. Which means he knows where Billy is. Which means the penthouse isn't safe anymore.

He can't leave Billy here, not for another moment. It’s not safe. He needs to get him and William out, before Mr. Edger can find a way to use them. Homelander starts to make his way to William's bedroom, where he can see Billy and the kid, but then he stops.

And then what?

What will he do now that he's killed Becca, after he hides Billy and William again? Go back to doing what Mr. Edger wants? Listen to his excuses? Wait for Vought to tell him what do next?

No. Enough. He's had fucking enough of Vought. Vought, who raised him in a lab. Vought, who made him date Maeve for years. Vought, who took Billy away from him. Vought, who made him lie and lie and lie.

He's sick of lying. He won't do it anymore.

Homelander grits his teeth, and flies up to William's room. He slams open the door and grabs Billy by the arm, "We're leaving."

"What?" Billy yelps as Homelander picks William up and tightens his hold on Billy's arm. "Leavin'? To where, eh?"

"Somewhere safe," William's eyes widen as Homelander carries him out of the room. "The penthouse isn't safe anymore."

"Why?" Billy demands. "What's-"

Homelander stops and turns to glare at Billy, "I didn't go to pick William up from school with that woman, Billy. I didn’t."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure!" Homelander yells. "I'd fucking remember that."

"Well," Billy tilts his head. "I've always said you're a nutter."

"Shut the fuck up, Billy, seriously," Homelander storms out of the penthouse with Billy and William and flies with the two of them to one of his other apartments. It's an apartment that Vought, as far as Homelander knows, doesn’t know about.

The apartment is much smaller than the penthouse, with only four bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining room and three bathrooms. The apartment's windows are barred and the door has three locks on it. Homelander puts William down on the couch and then tugs Billy with him to the kitchen.

"Stay here," He says quietly. "You'll be safe here."

"Home-"

Homelander shuts him down by kissing him hard. Billy makes a disgruntled sound against his mouth, but then kisses him back, sweetly.

"I'll be back soon," Homelander whispers against Billy's mouth. "Vought isn't going to get to you here."

Billy runs a hand through Homelander's hair, and says calmly, "Whatever your plannin', don't do it. You've got a mad look in your eyes."

Homelander grins, and kisses Billy again, "I love you, so, so much."

"Stop," Billy whispers. "Don't do it."

"You don't even know what I'm about to do."

"I know I ain't gonna like it," Billy responds.

"It's going to be ok," Homelander pulls Billy against him. "You don't need to worry. I love you."

Billy tenses, but then sighs deeply and hugs Homelander and kisses his forehead, "I know. And for some unknown bloody reason, I love you as well."

Homelander melts under Billy's touch, and then pulls away.

"I killed Becca," Homelander whispers. "I did it-"

"No," Billy shivers, moving away from Homelander, who quickly grabs Billy's wrists to keep him in place.

"I did," Homelander insists. "She'll never get between us ever again-"

"No, no," Billy shakes his head, and Homelander can feel the pounding of his heart. "You didn't, tell me you didn't…please…"

"Stay here," Homelander repeats. "Stay, and be good. Everything will be over, soon."


	20. The End: Part 1

He starts with Vought, of course. He has to start the end with them, the beginning started with them as well. When he flies to their Tower and hovers over it, Homelander suddenly can't understand how he let it get so far. Look at them, scrambling under him like ants. Mudpeople, unimportant, weak, powerless. There for him to destroy.

How had he allowed them to control him all these years? How he had allowed _anyone_ control him? He remembers a conversation he had with Maeve, when Translucent was missing, before he had gotten his body as a gift from Billy. How he has asked her why they did what Vought ask them, when Vought was made up of humans and they are so much above. And Maeve had told him that it was because Vought writes their checks. 

Well, if he wants money, he can go to a bank and take as much as he wants. If he wants to buy anything, he can just steal it. He doesn’t need to bend to the whims of the people who control the society he lives in. He can just take over that society.

Homelander considers lasering the Tower from afar, but then he shakes that thought off. There are a few people he wants to _see _dying, to see the light leave their eyes. Then he'll laser the building. But first…

First Mr. Edger.

Homelander swoops into the building. The people in the hallways smile at him and move to the sides to let him pass. He pays them even less attention then normal. They don’t matter anymore, none of them do, so he doesn’t reply to them as he walks into Mr. Edger's office.

"Homelander," Mr. Edger says his name softly, but with just a hint of warning. It's not the voice of a man trying to talk down a wild animal, which Homelander thinks would be the appropriate response. It's the voice of a man talking down a toddler on the verge of a temper tantrum.

That's when Homelander get it, understands his whole life as if it's been laid out in front of him diagrams. Once he gets it, he's a bit shocked he never had, before.

He's a child, to them. A really powerfully and important child, sure, but a child nonetheless. And adults don’t care what a child wants, what he thinks. They work around him.

Mr. Edger was never going to let him have Billy, just like that bitch Madelyn was never going to tell him the truth about William and Becca. He was just humoring him, always looking for excuses to weasel out of their deal. He'd probably been pretty happy with The Legend's death. It gave him the perfect excuse to back out.

"It's funny, you know," Homelander says as his fingers move idly over the busts of the Seven lined up on Mr. Edger's window-still like trophies. It suddenly occurs to him that maybe Mr. Edger doesn't see them as fully human, just props. And how ironic is that, when Edger is the one who isn't fully human, a mudperson, beneath them? "If you had given me this _one thing_, I probably would have just spent my life doing whatever you want."

Mr. Edger frowns, "What are talking about?"

"I think you know."

"If you mean Butcher, we can rethink our approach-"

But Homelander shakes his head.

"No, no, it's far too late for that now," He explains. "Even if I could trust you, which I really can't, it's not enough. I want something else."

"Something else?" Mr. Edger inquires quietly.

"Yes," Homelander nods, and looks up at Mr. Edger. Who still,_ still_ doesn’t look as scared as he should. "Now I want to be in control."

He starts to walk towards the man, and something changes on his prey's face. He gets it, suddenly, and takes a step backwards. But there's nowhere to escape too.

"Homelander," He warns. "Let's…let's just talk about this."'

"No," Homelander shakes his head. "No more talking. It's too late for that."

"It's not too late," Mr. Edger plasters himself against the wall. "Whatever it is you want, we can figure it out together-"

But Homelander just shakes his head mutely again. He doesn’t need Mr. Edger's help figuring anything out. he can do it by himself.

"Homelander…" Finally he sounds scared enough. Finally he sounds like a man begging for his life, like a man trapped in a cage with a rabid dog.

Which he is, in a way. But since he's the one who turned this particular dog rabid, he's got on one to blame but himself.

It certainly isn't the dog's fault.

"All these years," Homelander whispers. "Since I was old enough to understand, you've told me I was chosen, that I was a god. But you never believed any of it, did you? You just told me what you thought I should hear, to make me _good_, to make me work for your purposes."

Mr. Edger stares at him, and doesn’t say anything. For the first time in their long acquaintance, it seems that he has nothing to say. He doesn’t seem to be able to think, his heart beat normal and his body slack.

"But you see," Homelander murmurs, reaching out and placing his open palms on the wall on either side of Mr. Edger's head. "Even if you never believed it, you were right. I am a god. I am _the God_. I am _God_."

"Homelander," That seems to shake Mr. Edger out of his weird apathy. "You are not God. God is infallible-"

"_I_ am infallible!"

"You are not!" Mr. Edger yells back. "You are a spoiled, cruel child that never should have existed. The moment we found out how powerful you are, we should have killed you, I see now. We never should have allowed you out of your cage."

"Kill me? You wouldn't have been able to if you tried," Homelander sneers.

That shuts Mr. Edger down again.

"Don't you _get _it? You always thought you could control me- my life, my mind. Well, you can't. Not anymore. I'm never going to let anyone control me ever again. I'm going to control you, instead."

"Homelander, you are a hero," Mr. Edger pleads. "You protect people."

"I told you, I'm God," Homelander replies. "And God destroys."

"He also creates."

"I think I'm too mad for that."

He moves slightly backwards, then headbutts Mr. Edger, splitting his skull like an overripe melon thrown to the ground.

As far as he's concerned, they have pretty much the same value.

*

He looks down at the Tower from his position up in the sky, watching the people move around in it while Mr. Edger's blood trickles down from his forehead. Suddenly, the Vought workers don't look like people to Homelander. They don't even look like ants anymore, like they had earlier. They just look like puppets, puppets like the puppet he used to be.

None of the Seven are in the Tower at the moment. Starlight and Stormfront are both appearing in a charity event for LGBTQ+ youth. A remnant from Mr. Edger's faux attempt to work towards announcing Homelander's relationship with a man. It seems that Mr. Edger wasn't entirely against being gay-friendly. Just against being Billy-friendly. And who knows where Black Noir is, he sometimes disappears for an hour or two, though never more.

Maeve, though, is abroad in Hong Kong, helping the Chinese government beat down on uprising which has three supes. That's good, Homelander wants her out of the way. Of all of them, he hates Maeve the least, and would rather she not be caught in the hellfire he's about to unleash on the world.

Homelander takes a deep breath, cracking his neck a few times. Despite how much he wants to do this, he finds himself hesitating for a moment. When he does this, that's it. There's no going back. No one scripts he can follow, no more PR people telling him what the right thing to do is. He'll have to decide everything on his own.

He thinks about all the puppets he's about to kill, all of whom could probably be quite useful in what's about to happen.

But no.

He doesn’t need them anymore. He never did, really. He just thought he did.

Smiling and nodding to himself, Homelander hits the Tower with as strong a laser as he can make, starting from the bottom and working his way up.

He hears the screams of the dying puppets, the running feet as they try to escape. There's nowhere to run to, though. Everything is being destroyed.

There. Now they finally know. He's not a child, he's their God.

Homelander closes his eyes, letting the screams loll him to calm. He can hear ambulances and police cars coming to the Tower, and considers taking them down as well. But not right now, right now he needs to see his Billy. He's changing the world; he needs to see the one constant that will never change.

So he flies to the apartment where he left William and Billy. And he can't say he's surprised by what he finds there.

They're gone.

They're gone and Billy's necklace is in the sink, destroyed by water.

He's not even angry. He's just tired. Sick and tired of this game the two of them play. Billy runs, Homelander chases, Billy stays still for a bit. Homelander puts his guard down, Billy runs again. Homelander chases. On and on, over and over.

He hates this game. It's time to raise the stakes.

Homelander pockets the necklace. The camera is ruined, probably. It's just a plain old necklace now. But it's the first gift he ever gave Billy, and he won't part with it. Not now, not ever. He'll once again get Billy back, and once again slip the necklace on his skin. It occurs to him, as he angrily wipes his eyes clean of tears, that throughout the nearly three months Billy lived in the penthouse with him, that he'd disobeyed Homelander almost every day, and fought him over nearly everything. But not about the necklace. Once it was on it never came off. Not only that, but sometimes, when Homelander came home in the middle of the night and found Billy already asleep, the man would be clenching the necklace, huddled into himself, as if he was a little boy scared of the dark, and the necklace was his favorite teddy bear.

Billy needs it like he needs Homelander himself. But Billy hates needing anything, so he throws the things he needs away.

Well, Homelander is like a boomerang. He always bounces back into Billy's arms, no matter how far Billy throws him. Homelander wonders how much of Billy secretly wants to be caught, and how much is constantly fighting against it. Will they have to continue this until the day they die?

It's a depressing thought, but Homelander knows that it won't make him stop. If Billy wants to run and run for the rest of their lives, and Homelander can't stop him (he's already shown that he can't, that Billy's far too smart for that), then he'll keep chasing. He'll hate it.

But he'll never stop.

Homelander straightens up.

Next stop: The White House.

*

Homelander lands on the White House lawn. A few of the Secret Service people rush up to him, and Homelander can see the guns trained on him far above. He smirks and runs a hand through his hair.

"H-Homelander?" A Secret Service man blinks up at him (he can see his blinking eyes behind the dark sunglasses they all wear). "What are you doing here, did something-"

Homelander tilts his head. Seems like they haven't heard about Vought yet.

"I need to speak with the President," Homelander say. "I didn’t want to just fly over to the Oval Office, of course…"

"I don't think it would-" The men exchange a look. "We can't just let you go talk to him-"

Groaning, Homelander rolls his eyes and lasers the four people. Before more can rush up at him, he flies up, ignoring the bullets hitting him from all sides.

Homelander punches the window to the Oval Office, slamming himself into the room. He's been here often before, of course, to get metals of courage and blah blah blah. But this time, his entrance doesn’t elicit a smile and slap on the shoulder from the man. It gets a girly scream and the thundering of feet as tens of Secret Service men rush towards them.

"Hello, Mr. President," Homelander purrs, and grasps the man by the neck, pulling him up in front of himself. "Good to see you again, good to see you!"

"Homelander, what on Earth are you doing!" The President squeezes. "What's wrong?"

"Put the President down!" The Secret Service man yells, and fifteen guns come up to point at Homelander. "Now!"

They all seem so confused, it's adorable. Their hands are shaking, they don't know what to do, probably haven't been trained for a situation like this. It makes him angry, that no one thought him going rouge was even a _possibility_. That they were all so convinced that they could control him forever, that they knew him. They all thought he was the good, clean, pure man they saw on TV.

Would they still have thought that, if they had known from the beginning where he came from? Or was it just the pretend perfect life that was concocted for him that made him trustworthy? Was it ever _him_?

Of course not. None of them ever knew who he really is. No one knows he's John, no one knows he cries every time he hurts his love, every time he loses him. No one knows he's lost, all alone in the world when the one man who sees all this leaves. No one knows, and he doubts anyone cares.

_Poor John_, he remembers Billy smirking when he had burned the omelet he had tried to make, a few weeks before Billy left him for the first time. _Can't do nothin' on your own, can you? I'll teach you._ Billy, darling Billy who knew his imperfect parts and laughed them off.

"Put him down!" The man repeats.

"Or…what?" Homelander asks, tilting his head. "What are you going to do?"

"We'll shoot!"

"Right. and you think that will bother me because….?"

"Why are you doing this?" The President asks with his voice shaking. How did such a coward get to be so powerful? Just a tiny little man that even the least powerful supe could probably take down. Well, ok, maybe not Mesmer, to be fair. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing is wrong," Homelander sneers. "It's just that things are suddenly right."

"You're our greatest hero!"

Homelander rolls his eyes, and then shoves the President behind him. He's immediately shot on, but Homelander raises into the air and punches down, killing each and every one of the Secret Service men before turning back to the President and picking him up by his neck. He tilts his head at the man.

"P-p-please-"

"Shh," Homelander hushes

"Please-"

"Calm down," Homelander says as he tears the man's head out and places it on the table. "It's all over now."


	21. The End: William

After Homelander leaves, William sits on the sofa and waits as Billy looks out of the window for a few minutes, and then he turns to look at William and says quietly, "Punch the door, open it."

"What?" William blinks. "We're…what? Where are we going?"

"Away," Billy places his hand on William's shoulder. "Away from Homelander."

"But-"

"William," Billy says sharply, glaring at William. "Open the bloody door."

William knows that look. It's an adult look that means that you should just listen and not argue. William can tell, by the fury in Billy's eyes, that just this time he shouldn't try to understand what it is Billy wants. He should just trust him, and do what he's asked. So he punches the door, breaking it in two.

"Let's go," Billy takes William's hand and stomps out of the apartment with him. But before he does, William notices that Billy takes off the silver necklace he always wears and throws it into the sink, opening the tap.

William follows Billy into the street and watches as he breaks into the first car he comes across. This is a familiar retinue. During the week and a half they were on a run, he and Billy had stolen a car around three times a day. So, William knows exactly what he needs to do: climb into the back and sit down quietly. While he does his part, Billy does his and sits down in the front before stepping down on the gas. Really hard.

William lets them zoom forward in silence for a few moments before he quietly asks, "Billy?"

"Yeah."

There's something cold in Billy's voice that scares William. But just a bit. He's not so scared that he no longer feels safe. He still does, but he has an odd feeling that _Billy_ doesn’t feel safe.

"What happened? What did Homelander say?" William asks.

He can see Billy's hands tightening on the wheel, "You didn't listen?"

William bites his lip, "You told me not to eavesdrop."

"I did, didn't I?" Billy laughs, but he doesn’t sound happy at all. "And you listened. Ain't you a good lad?"

"Billy," William leans forward and puts his hand on Billy's shoulder. "Why are you so sad?"

Billy takes a deep breath, and turns to look at William for a moment. Just a moment, but it's enough time for William to see that Billy's eyes are full of tears, and something else. Something darker, which is worse. When Billy turns away, he says, "I don't matter right now. We're goin' to my friends. The ones you exchanged emails with."

"Away from Homelander."

"Far, far away from that cunt," Billy replies.

William chews his lower lip and says, "And will we go get Mommy?"

Billy doesn’t reply.

"Billy…"

"Shut it, William."

"But-"

"William, please!" Billy barks out, and William can _hear _the tears in his voice.

And then he knows.

His Mommy is dead. She's dead, Homelander killed her and told Billy about it. And that's why Billy is crying and that’s why they've run away. Not because Billy wants to save Mom, but because it's too late to safe her.

And William bursts into tears.

"Oh, darlin'…" Billy groans and stops the car. William closes his eyes and huddles into himself, and lets Billy carry him to the front of the car. He places his head on Billy's lap, and he cries and cries as Billy takes him far away from his mother's killer.

*

"William, wake up."

William blinks his eyes open and looks around. He'd cried himself to sleep, huddled into Billy, and now it's dark. The car door is open and Billy is standing over him, lightly smiling. He doesn't look happy, though. William appreciates the smile, anyway, knowing that it's there just for him, and tries to smile back. Maybe that will make Billy feel better. He can't, though. 

"We're here, laddie," Billy whispers and brushes some hair out of William's forehead. The touch makes William relax slightly, and he's too groggy to think clearly, so he raises his hands like he's a _baby_. Billy doesn’t seem to care, though. He just leans in and picks William up, letting him rest his head on Billy's shoulder. He hugs onto Billy's neck as he's carried out of the car, and turns around slightly to see where he is.

They're standing outside of a red, big house. To his left, he can see a barn that stinks of cows and large fields where a few random chickens are wondering around. It's a farm. William's never been too a farm, before.

"Sorry I woke you, you look knackered," Billy tries to smile down at William. But he can't even give a fake smile like he woke William up with.

"Jesus fuck, Butcher."

William turns to look back at the house to see the door has opened and a big, black, muscled man has stormed out. Rubbing his eyes, William huddles deeper into Billy's chest and waits to see what will happen now.

"MM, good to see you," Billy says, walking towards the man.

The man (MM? Is that a real name? William doesn’t think it can be) rushes down the front steps and comes to a stop in front of Billy, "You got away."

"I did," Billy replies. The two stare at each other for a moment, and then MM grabs Billy's neck. William stiffens in concern, but MM just pulls Billy into a hug, trapping William in between the two men. "Gwah- off, off-"

"Sorry," MM pulls away and turns to William. "You William, right?"

William nods.

"I'm Marvin," The man says, and when Billy snorts, adds, "But Billy calls me Mother's Milk."

"Mother's Milk…" William wonders out loud.

"I know, I know," Mother's Milk smiles, but the smile quickly disappears. "Billy, does Homelander know you're here?"

"Don't think so," Billy replies. "Everyone here?"

"Ah…everyone is asleep."

"Wake them up. We need to talk."

*

Mother's Milk wakes up the rest of Billy's friends, and his wife as well. Monique is a nice-looking woman who glares at Billy like she wants to _kill him_ and then whispers with her husband on the side. When they're done, she nods and comes over to William, who's still in Billy's arms.

"Hello sweetheart," Monique says calmly. "We've got another kid here, my daughter. Do you want to come sleep in her bedroom for now? You must be exhausted, and tomorrow we can find a room for you?"

William turns to look at Billy, "I'd rather stay with you."

Billy's arms tighten around him, and for a moment William thinks that he won't have to leave him, but then Billy clears his throat and says, "Go with her, lad. You need to sleep and I need to talk some things over with the boys."

"But-"

"I'll be right under you," Billy promises, gently placing him on the floor. "I ain't leavin', yes?"

"Yes," William whispers, and turns to Monique.

"Good lad."

William lets himself be led by the strange woman, who takes him up with her to the bedroom where her daughter is sleeping, and makes up the bottom mattress of the bunk bed the little girl is sleeping in for him. 

"Try to get some sleep," Monique says quietly, tucking William in.

William bites his lip and hugs the pillow, "Can you tell Billy to come say goodnight to me?"

Monique sighs deeply and caresses William's hair, "I have to admit, I never thought Billy could actually care about anyone other than himself."

"What?" William tries to stifle a yawn. "No, he cares a lot. He cares about me more than anything. You'll see."

Monique smiles, "I'm glad to hear that. And you're safe now."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Billy too?"

"Both of you," Monique promises, and when she rubs circles on William's back, she reminds him of Mom, so he trusts her.

"Ok," William mumbles and pulls the blanket over himself. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Monique kisses William's forehead and leaves the room.

Now alone, William immediately sits up and brings his legs up to his chest. He leans his chin on his knees and sniffles. He suddenly feels as alone as he does when Billy is locked in his rooms in the penthouse. But Homelander isn't here, like he is in the penthouse.

It doesn't matter. Well, it does, but it doesn’t to his _feelings_. Mom is dead, and Billy _isn't here_. He wants Billy, he needs him. And what if Homelander comes here? And he's not with Billy? Then Homelander can kill Billy like he killed Mommy.

William isn't going to let that happen. He's going to protect him. So, William jumps up and rushes out of the room. He paddles down the stairs and into the living room.

Where he stops at the door and stares at the screen. Where he can see Homelander, sitting in the oval office in the President's chair. Everyone is standing around the TV, watching with various versions of fear or concern.

William's eyes widen. Behind Homelander, the walls and windows of the Oval Office are painted red, and his suit is the same color, as well. Blood, it's blood. He's covered in blood, and so is the room. Blood and-and things that look like stuff that should be _inside someone_.

While William tries to process that, he notices that there's something sitting on the desk besides Homelander. For a moment, it just looks like a red ball, but when William looks closer, he sees that the ball has two small holes in it, a nose (a nose?) and another, larger hole underneath it.

A nose?

It hits William like a bullet to the stomach. The two small holes are eye sockets, the large one is where the tongue and teeth were pulled out. It's a head. His father is sitting next to a head. A head that's very much not attached to a body. 

Suddenly William doesn’t want to grow up, doesn’t want to become like this. He wants to be good, and wants to think that that will make him different from Homelander, but people thought that Homelander was good, and he turned out to be very, very bad. So what if the same happens to William? What if William thinks that William is good but really, he's bad? He's not sure how to stop that from happening. And if that happens, then he will be able to kill people just like Homelander, he'll be bad just like Homelander. And he doesn’t want to be bad like Homelander. He wants to be good like Mommy and Billy.

"Billy," Homelander says into the camera, and William shivers. He's not sure what it is, but there's something- something dead in his voice. Like there's nothing left in him anymore. "You will come to the White House; you will come back to me with our son. Every day you won't, I will kill a hundred children. And you can't stop me, you know that. No one can. And I know what you're doing, running away like this. I know you don't want to love me. But it's too late for that, isn't it? You will love me until the day you die. So, if you want to have another temper tantrum, have it. But people will suffer in your place while you d-"

He's cut off when Billy closes the TV. There's a moment of stunned silence and then William bursts into the room, "You can't go!"

All five adults turn to look at William, but Billy is the only one to reply to him. He throws the remote down and comes to lean down on one knee in front of William.

"Don't worry, you ain't goin' nowhere," He promises. "You're safe here. I'll be goin'."

"Billy-"

"Shut it, MM!" Billy bellows, and stands up. "We have to end him, I will fuckin' do it alone if you ain't gonna help me."

"You can't," William begs, tugging on Billy's arm. "You can't defeat him."

"This ain't your problem," Billy sneers at William. "I'm goin' to kill him for hurtin' your mum. For scarin' you."

"But you can't," William repeats. "Billy-"

"We need to find Black Noir," Billy says, ignoring William as he turns back to his friends. "He can take Homelander down."

"I can take him down," William whispers. "I can do it; I can keep you safe."

But Billy doesn’t hear him.

"If what The Legend said is true, Black Noir will be heading over to the White House any moment now, to take Homelander down," One of the other ones (Billy said he's called Hughie), says.

"Aye, but I want to make sure that happens, yeah? I want to see him brown."

"But I can do it!" William screams, and hovers up in the air. "I can do it; I can keep you safe-"

"No, you ain't goin' nowhere," Billy glares. "You ain't in danger here, you ain't leavin'."

"But-"

"_No_," Billy grabs William's arm and pulls him back down to the ground. "You're seven, you ain't doin' nothin'. Go back to your room."

William glares, trying to look scary like Homelander, but Billy just stomps with him out of the living room and up the stairs, and deposits him on the bed. He lets himself be moved, but when he's released, William jumps back up and hugs onto Billy's waist.

"Don't go," William begs. "I don't want to lose you, too. Please."

He can feel Billy taking a deep breath, and then there's a hand running through his hair, and Billy kisses his forehead, "You ain't losin' me. I swear."

He gently detaches himself from William and moves him back to the bed, tucking him in. He brings the blanket up all the way to his chin, like he always does, as if it needs to be perfect.

"You ain't," Billy says again. William tugs him down and wraps an arm around his neck. He can almost_ feel_ Billy rolling his eyes, "What now?"

"Things are scary," William mumbles. "And things are sad. Aren't they?"

Billy detaches himself from William's neck and straightens up. He looks down at William, face very sad indeed.

"Things are sad," Billy agrees. He hesitates, then starts humming a song. William's eyes widen when he recognizes the Spice's Girls 'Wannabe'. He bites his lip, trying to stop himself from crying, but he only lasts like a second before he gives up and presses his face into Billy's shoulder and lets go. He cries, tears running down his cheeks, but he doesn’t make a sound. He cries. Quietly.

"Billy, don't go," William whimpers. "Please-please-please. I can't lose you; I'll _die_."

"You ain't gonna die," Billy stops humming to tell him. "And you ain't gonna lose me."

William nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do, and allows Billy to tuck him into bed, once again. Billy sighs deeply, kisses William's forehead, and leaves the bedroom, his last words meant to keep him calm.

The only probably is, William doesn’t believe him. If he goes, he won't come back. William will lose him, there's no other way this can go. And that can't happen, William will not-_not_ let it happen.

William has to protect him.

He waits, pinching himself to keep from falling asleep, until he's sure that Billy isn't coming back up to see him again. Quietly, William tugs the blanket off himself and walks over to the open window. Taking a deep breath, he jumps out of the window and flies away.

He's going to take down Homelander.

And then Billy and him will be safe, safe, safe.

*

It takes him under an hour to get to the White House, and when he does, he finds Homelander waiting for him. He's hovering over the scorched lawn in the air, his eyes red and his suit covered in blood like on TV.

"Hello there, William," Homelander calls out. "You've come back!"

William swallows and comes to a stop in the air in front of Homelander.

"Where's Billy?" Homelander adds.

"I'm not going to give him to you," William declares. He feels very adult, suddenly, now that he knows just what he's going to do and what he's willing to lose. Maybe that's why Billy is so cool, because he knows what he wants so clearly. That's great, because that means William will be cool now, too. "I'm not here for that."

"No?" Homelander raises an eyebrow. "Then why are you here, then, little guy?"

"I'm here to kill you."

Homelander stares at him, then bursts out laughing, "Oh, bud. You can't kill me."

"I can, I will," William raises his hand in preparation. Thumbs out, just like Billy taught him. He can almost feel Billy standing behind him, positioning him correctly. "I'm going to protect Billy."

"No, you're going to tell me where he is," Homelander sneers. "And then_ I'll_ protect him."

"I won't!" William yells, and attacks.

He flies over, as fast as bullet, hand raised to punch Homelander in the face. But Homelander catches his hand right before it hits his face, and squeezes.

And it hurts, really hurts. William whimpers, but tries again, putting his legs together and raising them to kick Homelander in the stomach. But Homelander moves just in time, and William's legs hit the air. As Homelander twists in the air, he takes William's arm with him.

William hears the crack before he feels the pain. It's a frightening, disgusting sound that he's never heard before, and isn't entirely sure what to make of it. He doesn’t have long to think about the sound, though, because very quickly the pain overtakes all the cells in his body.

William screams, shoving away from Homelander. He tumbles down to the ground, hitting it, feet first. William cries, whimpering and cradling the broken limb to his chest. The pain shoots through him, from his arm down to every other part of his body.

He wants his Mom, he wants his Billy, he doesn’t want to be alone. He just wants someone to come and cradle him into their chest, comforting him and keeping him safe.

Homelander looms over him, his cape flapping in the wind, and says softly, "You're hurt. Come on, little guy, tell me where Billy is. We can make you feel better. I'm sure Billy can make you all good."

William bites his lip. Maybe he should? Maybe he should tell Homelander where Billy is. Because he doesn't want to be alone, and he lost Mommy, he wants Billy.

"Come on, you'll both be safer with me-"

No. William, shakenly, stands up. They won't be, Billy won't be safer with Homelander. And he promised himself that he would keep Billy safe. So, even if William can't make himself feel safe, he can still protect Billy.

No matter what happens to William. William- he heals quickly. Billy doesn’t, he's just a human. And if William is stronger than all of them…that means he needs to protect all of them, doesn’t it?

"I'm going to kill you," William says softly, and watches Homelander's smile fade and get replaced by a confused frown. "And you're not going to touch Billy ever again."

Homelander yells angrily, and bolts down at William.

William stands up, shaky on his feet, and curls his hand into a fist. Homelander's hands are clenched into fists as well, and William takes a deep breath, preparing himself for impact.

He's ready. He's seven, but he's ready. He knows what's about to happen, but it's ok. It's ok, nothing can make him stop.

Then their fists collide, and William can feel Homelander's fist punching through his arm and hitting his chest. He didn't save Billy, and wonders if Billy will be proud of him, anyway.

He'll know soon. Billy will come.


	22. The End: Part 2

His son lays before him, broken like a china doll that was dropped on the floor. But unlike a china doll, unlike others, William heals. Not as quickly as Homelander himself would, its takes nearly ten hours, but he does heal. Homelander stands over him, watching as William's arm twists back into place, his rib bones grow back, his heart's muscles slither back into place.

He's fine, he's fine. But Homelander, staring at William's tightly closed eyes, finds that the fear and shock that had reverberated through his body when he felt his fist collide with William have not gone down. Homelander has never felt anything like this before, this horror that someone won't make it. That he'd killed someone.

What if he had? What if he had hurt William so badly that even his incredible healing abilities wouldn't have been enough? Homelander swallows. If that ever happened, that would mean that Homelander himself could be killed. He could be ended.

Homelander shakes his head, standing up. William is fine, though. So who the fuck cares? And anyways, William is just a little boy, and he's weaker than Homelander. Homelander isn't like him, Homelander is a god.

Even after William is healed completely, he stays in place, unmoving. He stays like that as the sun goes down and then comes up again, stays like that while Homelander faces off against human soldiers sent by however thinks they're in control of America after the President was put down. William doesn’t move while his father lasers all of them down, pulls their hearts out and crushes their skulls.

Unsurprising, it doesn’t take long before a supe comes to try and take Homelander down. Shockwave, who tries to speed into Homelander but gets caught as he tries.

"Really, Shockwaves?" Homelander snorts. "You do know I've caught A-Train when he was running in full speed, right?"

Shockwave swallows, and Homelander rolls his eyes and smashes his fist into Shockwave's brain.

William still isn't moving.

"William?" Homelander asks, throwing Shockwave's body on the ground. "Hey, buddy, want to help Daddy take down supes?"

The little boy just curls into himself.

"Come on, it will be fun, promise."

William shakes his head.

But before Homelander can ask the boy what's wrong, he hears a car driving up to the destroyed White House. He smacks his lips and decides to just ignore it. He wants to take care of William's odd mood first.

"What did you do?"

Homelander freezes, eyes staying on William. He wants to look up but he just can't. His eyes are stuck on William. William, the little boy that he had hurt.

William, on the other hand, jumps up, his eyes flying open, "Billy!"

Homelander's eyes follow William as he spirts through the scorched grass, watching as the boy collapses into a man's arms. Billy. Who is standing next to a broken down white van and opens his arms to William. Billy pulls William against him.

"Billy, you came-"

"Shut it!" Billy bellows down at William, though his eyes never leave Homelander. "Told you to stay, didn't I? Now you're hurt-"

"But I healed," William mumbles. "And I wanted to protect you."

"Get in the car," Billy replies.

"But-"

"Now, William! Now!"

William jumps, and rushes into the back of the car. Billy takes a few steps towards Homelander.

"What did you do?" Billy whispers, again. There's a wild streak in his eyes, a strange madness that's been unleashed by William's pain.

"I…I become God," Homelander replies, but it suddenly doesn’t feel like it. There's something in Billy's eyes that he's never seen before, and it makes him physically sick. At least he thinks that's what it is. Homelander had never been sick in his life.

"God?" Billy takes another few steps forward, and now Homelander can see the black pits in the middle of his eyes. Homelander has to look away. He can't look.

"No one can tell me what to do now," Homelander murmurs. "No Vought to control me, you'll see-"

"You hurt your son," Billy shivers, even though it's pretty warm. "You promised me. You said you ain't gonna hurt him. You-"

"He's fine now," Homelander begs, trying to convince himself as well as Billy. "You saw…"

He trails off when he sees the look in Billy's eyes. He looks horrified and furious. And scared. Oh, no, no, Billy is scared. He's made him scared. He's finally done it, he broke the one person in his life that he'd never managed to break.

He's made Billy afraid. He lost. Nothing else matters. He's failed.

"You saw," He tries again, "William-"

But Billy shakes his head, and Homelander stops again.

"You could have killed him," Billy whispers, and his knees began to shake. "God, oh God…"

He groans, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking his head.

"Billy-"

Billy lets out a horrific scream, knees buckling as he falls down to the ground. His forehead touches the black dirt as he crumbles into the ground. It makes Homelander think of a marionette whose strings were cut.

"I'm not even bloody sorry for what's about to come, now."

"What do you mean?" Homelander demands. "What's about to com-"

He feels a gust of wind at his side before something solid hits him and he's thrown into the sky.

There's an odd feeling that goes through him as he hits the side of the White House, breaking it in two. He's not entirely sure what that feeling is. It's a bit like the feeling he has in his heart from the look in Billy's eyes. And-oh, he gets it now. The feeling is pain, horrific, terrible pain. He has pain in his heart and now he has pain in his side.

Homelander looks down at his body, and sees bones, stunningly white against the red blood. He blinks, mind foggy, unable to truly appreciate the pain his body is being put through due to the confusion drowning him. He's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do with pain, he's never felt it before, not really. His mind is a bit lost.

He looks up, unable to look at the exposed meat and blood that really should be inside him, and, through blurry eyes, sees someone walking towards him. For a moment all he can make up in the fact that the figure is black, but as it gets closer, he realizes that it's not just black. It's black-black.

Black Noir.

"Noir…" Homelander chokes out, which makes a bit of blood slip out of his mouth. And there's another first for him. Groaning, he presses his hand into the wound Noir has inflicted, feeling it healing quickly. He had no idea Noir was strong enough to take him down.

_Why_ was Noir trying to take him down?

"Noir," Homelander tries again. "What are you-"

Black Noir tilts his head as he comes to stand above Homelander, and puts a hand over his mask. Homelander blinks up at him, and there's something a bit odd about Black Noir doing that, but…he really can't think right now, so he can't figure out what it is.

But when Black Noir's mask slips off, he remembers. Oh, it's off because Black Noir never takes his mask off. And why is he doing that now?

Black Noir raises his head and Homelander stares at Homelander.

What.

His face is staring at him, his own face attached to Black Noir's body. Homelander realizes this as he fully heals, the pain dulling and then disappearing entirely.

Black Noir looks _exactly_ like him. Well, not exactly. There's a look in his eyes of mad pleasure that Homelander doesn’t think has ever appeared on his, but other than that, they're exactly the same. Identical. Down to their fucking hairstyles. And that punch has proved that Black Noir is just as strong, if not (Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck) more then he is.

No, he's stronger. Homelander can't ignore the facts. He's fucking stronger. Or he wouldn't have been able to so easily throw Homelander around.

But then Homelander realizes something, something much more important than anything else. Black Noir is stronger the Homelander, he can beat him, and Billy is _right there_. Right there and maybe Homelander won't be able to protect him.

For the first time in his life, Homelander is truly afraid.

"Noir," Homelander grits his teeth and stands up.

Black Noir grins.

"So…this is how Mr. Edger did it," Homelander muses. "He had you get William from school, then?"

Noir nods.

"What, you can't talk?"

"I can talk," Black Noir replies. It's the first time Homelander has ever heard him speak, and he can't say he finds the experience enjoyable. A bit because it's his voice, but mostly because it's not really. It's a mad, pathetic, sadistically gleeful version of his voice. He doesn't fucking sound like that.

He doesn't. He _doesn’t_.

Black Noir's voice is also hoarse and crocked, which makes sense if you consider the fact that he probably hasn't talked in years.

"Fuck," Homelander snorts. "You're a fucking pathetic creature, aren't you? You let people think Maeve is second strongest member of the Seven, when it was-"

"First."

"What?"

"I'm the strongest," Black Noir croaks out, and he points at Homelander. "I'm stronger than you."

Homelander growls, "You are not."

But he doesn’t think that's true.

"I am, I'm stronger than you," Black Noir murmurs. "And now I'm going to kill you."

"You're a rabid dog that's been let out of his cage," Homelander replies, and then shivers when he thinks about how he'd thought of himself with the same terminology when he'd killed Mr. Edger. He shakes his head, pushing that thought away. He isn’t like Noir, in any way. "Mr. Edger is dead, I killed him, I killed all of them. Stillwell and Vogelbaum and the rest of them. The Legend is dead as well. We don't need to do what they want anymore. We never really have. Why are you still following them?"

He's a bit surprised that none of the Seven members have joined him in the White House. Maeve, who has suffered so much because of the need to hide, where is she now?

She's crying over the dead mudpeople, probably. Homelander knew that the crashed plane had bothered her more then she let on. The Deep probably doesn’t even know what's going on, hiding in the bottom of the ocean with his fucking _friends_. And he knows better then to trust Starlight, who has helped Billy's team, or Stormfront, who he doesn’t know well enough to read.

No, he's alone. No one's going to come lend him a hand. Not that he needs it, but he still would have preferred them on his side.

"I'm going to kill you," Black Noir shivers in a way that looks vaguely orgasmic. "I've been waiting for years and years to do it. Why shouldn't I, just because they're gone?"

"Well," Homelander sneers. "You can try."

Black Noir grins, and then puts one leg before the other.

There's only a half-second moment before he moves, but Homelander knows how Black Noir operates, so he knows what's coming next. One leg before the other, and then Black Noir will bolt forward, and smash into Homelander. He knows all of Black Noir's moves, of course. They've been fighting side by side one another for their entire adult life. They've trained together thousands of times, though of course Black Noir has never before shown his true strength.

Homelander knows to side step Black Noir, so instead of crushing into him the clone collides with the bricks that once made up the White House's outer wall.

While they were training, Homelander had observed Black Noir, but Black Noir had observed him as well, and so at the last millisecond, as Black Noir is colliding with the stones, he moves his hand to block Homelander, and they go down together.

For a moment there's just noise, the defining _slam_ of the white sandstones with flesh, the wheezing of air as others are thrown in the air, and then Homelander blinks.

He's not in DC anymore, that's clear. He's in a huge, black crater filled with broken pieces of buildings and cars and bodies. Pushing himself into a seated position, Homelander looks around, trying to process what just happened.

The crater is clearly made by their impact with the ground, as Homelander can see cracks on the ground going from the position of his body to the edges of the crater. There's screaming all around them from the humans lucky enough to survive the initial impact. Or maybe not so lucky, Homelander points out to himself, noting one young woman trying to crawl away from a burning car, which is a bit difficult given the fact that she doesn’t have any legs left, and as she drags herself away, Homelander sees the trail of blood she leaves behind.

Well, maybe she won't survive long anyhow.

Homelander squints his eyes on the car the woman is trying to get away from to see the car plate before it gets ingulfed by flames, and notes that he's in Texas. Fucking damn it, Homelander _hates _Texas. Too much Jesus-love. Whenever he's in Texas he has to share the spotlight with Jesus even more then normal.

Though, at the moment, Homelander doesn’t think anyone is about to put up a rally for him to speak at. They seem to be preoccupied with dying and screaming.

It seems he's vastly underestimated Black Noir's power. Because if his momentum can get them to create a crater the size of the Grand Canyon in _Texas_, a full-blown fight between them would easily destroy Earth.

He can't let that happen. Despite the great pleasure he'd get from seeing all of these mudpeople perish, there's a very important reason why he can't. Billy needs the Earth to survive. There's no Option B planet he can take Billy too. At least as far as he knows. So, he has to stop this fight before it really gets going.

"Noir," Homelander raises his head in a pleading motion, standing up. Black Noir is pulling himself out from under a pile of bricks they've somehow carried with them all the way from DC, and shoves a hand trying to reach him away. "I don’t want to fight."

"Of course you don’t," Noir snorts. His black suit is torn in places and chalk white from the sandstones in others, but he doesn’t bother trying to brush himself clean. "You see how strong I am, now. You know you can't win."

"Well, I'm not just going to stand here and let you kill me," Homelander sneers. "We're going to have to fight. And that will destroy- everything, won't it?"

"What do I care?" Noir demands. "So, everything will be destroyed. But you'll be dead and gone!"

"_Why_ do you need me dead so badly?" Homelander yells back. "What the fuck will it give you?"

Noir glares at him, mouth shut tight.

"Tell me!" Homelander demands. "Vogelbaum isn't here to be proud of you anymore, so what do you hope to gain, hmm?"

"Do you remember," Black Noir asks, voice suddenly disturbingly calm. "When you were a little boy and Vogelbaum played peek-a-boo with through the glass?"

Homelander gaps, stunned into silence. How does Black Noir _know_ that? No one knows that other then Homelander and Vogelbaum. The idea that Vogelbaum had gone around telling people about those moments where he treated Homelander (John, when he treated _John_) like a normal boy, hurts in a way that's h's almost never experienced before. It's a somehow worse betrayal than almost anything else Vogelbaum did to him. It's worse than Vogelbaum keeping William away from him, and it's only equaled by keeping Billy away.

"He never did that with me."

Homelander looks up sharply.

"They'd show me videos of you. All day, I'd sit there and watch what they did with you. Vogelbaum taught you to talk, I learned from watching those videos. I watched Vogelbaum laugh and sing to you, and I knew that it wasn't for me. When they starved you to see how long you could go without eating, Vogelbaum told you it was going to be ok, that you were going to get food soon. When they stared me, they just stopped sliding me food trays through the doggie door."

Homelander, who's so far been transfixed by the surprisingly eloquent speech, finally breaks himself out of the trance and snaps, "He lied. He said it was going to be ok, but it never was-"

"But he talked to you! He talked to you and you weren't alone!" Noir explodes. "I was alone, every day of my life until I was _eighteen_."

Homelander snorts, "If you're going to have a murderous rage towards anyone, I'd recommend Star-fucking-light, she's the perfect All-American girl you seem so invested in becoming."

Noir sneers, exposing a long line of pearl-white teeth that are a bit sharper looking then normal human teeth should be. Does Noir sharpen then or something? Homelander wouldn't put it past him.

"Starlight isn’t me," Black Noir snarls. "She isn't who I should have been."

"I'm not you, either," Homelander shivers in disgust. What a repugnant idea. "You're just-"

"Just what, a science experience? You're one, as well."

Shaking his head, Homelander says, "You were made to bring me down. _I _was made for a greatest purpose."

"Yeah? What is that?" Noir tilts his head in mock thought. Homelander grits his teeth. He doesn’t appreciate being made fun of. "Being a Vought puppet? Getting them money? Protecting the mudpeople? Or maybe just for Vogelbaum to see how powerful he can make a creature?"

Homelander finds he has absolutely no fucking response to that.

"Because it seems to me that we're exactly the same. The only difference between us is that you got lucky."

"Lucky? _Lucky_?! I wasn't lucky! I was in a cage me whole life. And I had to _pretend_, to pretend I grew up in a white picket-fence house and was happy and _good_. You didn't have to smile at them, you had a _mask_."

"And you-_you_ had an identity."

Homelander freezes.

"You had_ John_."

Homelander swallows. He wants…he wants Vogelbaum. He wants Vogelbaum to come and tell him everything was going to be ok. It will be a lie, sure. But it's better than having nothing.

"You have a name that our father gave you. I never had that. All I ever had was you, the job of ending you. But you never did anything to make me need to do that. So there was _nothing_, for years. For_ twenty_ _years_. While you waved at the cameras and smiled and enjoyed life. While you fucked Maeve and all the others, I had to be there and watch, waiting for something that never came. And you wonder why I want to kill you now."

Black Noir takes a step forward, but Homelander can't find it in himself to react. He looks at himself, at the creature he could have been, one made of fury and despair, the creature that he should have been, and he can't fight. Is this really all he is? A tool in the hands of dead men?

"So, I'm going to kill you, slowly and painfully. And after I'm done killing you, I'm going to take everything you have. All these things that should have been mine all along. I'm going to take the country you've tried taking over, I'm going to take that little boy you force-fucked into that woman. And I'm going to take away that lovely blue-eyed man you spend your days salivating over."

Homelander sneers, fury growing in him again, thankfully making the uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings wash away. Noir could threaten William, he could threaten Homelander. He could not threaten Billy. _No one_ could threaten Billy. 

"If you really think that I'm going to let you anywhere near him, then I think Vogelbaum made some mistake in making you and accidently created a retarded version of me," Homelander sneers.

"No, no, my friend," Noir grins. "I'm just as smart as you, just the same. I wonder, do you think he'd be able to tell the difference? After I kill you and take your suit, and go to him? You think he'll be able to tell the difference when I force him open and split him with my dick? Do you think he'll be _scared_?"

But he's already scared, Homelander has made him scared. He's managed to break him in a way that Homelander had thought impossible. Fuck, he wants Billy. More than he wants Vogelbaum. He needs Billy, needs him more then he ever has before.

"I don't think he'll be able to tell," Noir purrs. "I don't think he'd care enough to tell. He'll be pleased, won’t he, just to have a dick in him. He probably doesn’t care who it's attached to. I wonder how many men have fucked him over the years. I'd bet good money that when you were together he'd still let other men fuck his ass, his mouth-"

What is Noir doing? Does he want Homelander furious, unable to control his anger?

_Yes_, a voice that sounds remarkably like an amused Billy purrs in his mind. _Of course that's what he's bloody after. Can't beat him on a one-on-one, yeah? Gotta be smarter. Angry people ain't bloody smart. _

Billy. Billy has spent the last eight years fighting someone he didn't have a prayer in heaven of defeating in a one-on-one fight. And yet he'd come on top, over and over again, until Homelander had been forced to kill the President of the United States in order to get him back.

Right now, Homelander needs to think like Billy. So- how has he done it?

The answer is so obvious that Homelander almost bursts out laughing. When Billy can't win, he _runs_.


	23. The End: Part 3

Billy runs.

He runs fast and he runs far. And sure, he gets caught, but the point isn't to escape for good, it's to win yourself a few moments to plan. A rabbit in a trap can't plan, but a rabbit outside of it can. It's a never-ending game of hide and seek.

Homelander knows what he needs to do, so he takes a deep breath and shoots up into the sky.

He can hear Noir screaming in frustration under him, taken completely by surprise by Homelander's actions. He'll catch up soon, there's no question about that. The real question is how far can Homelander can get before he's caught.

Out of the solar system, ideally. Where he can think without fear of destroying Earth.

Homelander pierces the clouds, and can feel Noir's fingers graze his ankle. He kicks, which both gives him a boost and pushes Noir backwards a bit. He soars out of Earth's atmosphere, eyes wide with excitement. He's never gone up here before, there was always too much going on down there. Maybe he should have.

The lack of atmosphere hurts his lungs, squeezing them painfully, and he can feel his skin bruise and freeze by the freezing temperatures. But he's healing before he can register the pain.

Noir is inches from him, he can feel his presence right there. But he can't let himself be caught yet. Not so close to Earth. He won't be able to change his trajectory from this short a distance.

_Well?_ Billy taunts in his mind, amused and enjoying Homelander's uncertainty_, whatya gonna do now? D'you know how to use what you've got? _

Homelander grits his teeth and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, and shoots out again, so fast that he hears Noir gasp in surprise behind him. He makes it as far as Uranus before his strength starts to ooze out and he allows himself to slow down. Not dramatically, nothing that will be noticeable to Noir, but just enough for the clone to catch up. He grabs Homelander's ankle and pulls him down, so hard that all the bones in Homelander's leg are ripped right out of their sockets.

"Fuck!" Homelander screams as the pain boils in him like lava. God fucking damnit, it hurts. He thinks about Billy, who had had his arm broken as a child by his father. The thought of the child Billy had once been enduring this kind of pain makes his head spin in despair. And he doesn’t know how he did it. He can feel his sanity slowly slipping away, but he growls. He can't let that happen, he can't become a fucking animal. If ten-year-old Billy could survive it, Homelander can as well.

Noir grins, tightening his hold on Homelander's mangled leg. He starts twirling around in a circle, taking Homelander with him. He swings him around faster and faster, making Homelander dizzy and furious.

How _dare_ Noir take control of his body like this? Force it to do things Homelander hasn't agreed to? He's going to _end_ him. Usefully, the anger makes the pain feel slightly less mind-numbing.

Noir lets go of Homelander, sending him flying in the direction of Earth. He's moving too fast to think, so fast that the skin on his body is skinned off. He's lost his suit, as well, but that seems a bit less important.

He doesn’t need think, though. He knows what he needs to do. Gritting his teeth, Homelander uses every ounce left of his considerable strength, and moves.

He hits Saturn on his way, which breaks his momentum by a tiny little bit. It's a shame, but he only breaks off about a third of the planet on impact, so it's more or less ok. Also, it's just _one_ of the planets. And not the important one.

Homelander manages to bring himself to a stop around two solar systems away from Earth. he lands on a moon that surrounds one of the four planets that make up that system, creating a crater from around half of said moon. He lays there, groaning, and lets his body heal.

It takes a few seconds, and by the time he's fully back to normal Homelander can hear the_ woosh_ that announces Noir's imminent arrival. He groans and stands up, ready for attack.

He manages to move just in time, so that Noir's clenched fist, which had been meant to collide with his body, hits the surface of the moon instead. There's an earth-shattering crack (literally), and Homelander is thrown sideways into space as the moon shatters into a million pieces. Debris, dust and the pieces of the destroyed moon obscure Homelander's vision, so he can't see where Noir is with his naked eye. He activates his X-ray vision and scans the sky, dodging out of the way of the rocks flying into him.

He finds Black Noir on his right, soaring towards him, and just has the time to move. Noir flashes past him, but the momentum of his push sends Homelander flying, still. He collides with one of the bigger pieces of the destroyed moon, breaking it into tiny little pieces. It breaks his back, and Homelander gasps out at the horrific pain. He can't move, his spine twisted out of place. Like Becca, he's stuck in place.

Black Noir laughs somewhere in the background, and as Homelander's bones start stitching themselves back together, he's hit in the stomach by a kick, which opens his belly. Hypnotized, Homelander looks at his insides, his pancreas and intestines and liver, as they slip out of the safe confines of his body and float in front of him. He places his hand on his stomach, forcing the flaps of skin closed as it heals, his body growing the organs back and producing more blood. The excessive blood production makes him dizzy, and he doesn't realize Noir has kicked a rock at him until it hits him straight on.

_You gonna become a stiff,_ Billy warns as Homelander's stomach area is forced open again by the force of the hit. _Out here, where ain't nobody gonna find you. That what you want?_

"I'm not," Homelander coughs out blood, clenching his open wounds. They start to close again, but they won't have time to heal, not with Noir flying towards him again, leg ready to kick. "No fucking way, Billy."

_Show me, then_, Billy purrs, and Homelander can imagine him, sitting on one of the floating rocks, chin resting on his hand, looking between Homelander and Noir, eyes expressionless as he watches the fight, waiting to see who will win. He won't support either of them, not until he knows who will come out on top. He's too practical for that. _Show me what you gonna do, me darlin'._

He's thrown backwards again, this time from a kick that breaks off both of his legs. He feels the meat and bone detaching from the rest of his body, and both legs from bellow the knee go flying behind him. There's a small part of his mind that wonders where they'll end up, and another that wonders how long they can stay preserved in space, given the fact that they'll freeze within seconds.

The rest of his mind is screaming, dying, bleeding to death, crying in a corner like a beaten little child. He can see the rivers of blood swirl around him, bellow him, above him, surrounding him like a protective blanket. He's going to die surrounded by red.

Homelander would have liked to die surrounded by blue, instead. Blue like Billy's piercing eyes. Or maybe black, like his raven hair. Or grey, like his complicated soul.

_If you die now_, Billy reminds him, _that's bloody it for me, eh? Noir will fuck me to death. _

_Just…just stop_, Homelander replies in his mind, already too weak to answer out loud. _I'm dying, can't you just be sweet for me? Just once._

_Can't_, Billy unsurprisingly tells him. _That ain't what I am. If you were lookin' for someone sweet, you won't have chosen me._

Well, that's fair enough. Homelander blinks and raises his fingers up. Maybe Billy will come and take his hand. Maybe he'll kiss it, and pull him up with him to…wherever people go when they die.

_You ain't goin' there_, Billy purrs. _Heaven, or Hell_. _You ain't goin' to neither, you're just a bloody science experiment. _

Homelander growls, he's not a fucking science experiment. He's a god, he's always been a good. He's not Black Noir, they are not the same-

_Well, gods don't die, do they?_

_Billy, please shut up._

_Can't, _Billy sneers_. You're leavin' me to die-_

"No!" Homelander screams. It's the disgust in Billy's voice that finally makes him move. He knows he's imagining Billy, but it's so_ real_. The Billy in his mind doesn't even sound angry that Homelander is giving up and letting him die. He just sounds…disappointed. Like he should have expected Homelander to let him down all along.

Homelander can't let him be right on this. He can't let him down. That's one thing he's not capable of doing.

So Homelander growls, leans down and grabs his stomps in his hands. His head is reeling, he's so weak he can barely hold on, but he manages to, somehow. His hands get wet with blood, but the bleeding slows down to the drizzle, and Homelander's mind starts to uncloud when his body is able to make blood and keep it in.

_So, ain't dead yet,_ Billy points out thoughtfully. _But Noir is comin' at you, now. What you gonna do?_

Homelander is losing his fucking mind. He's having full conversations with a man in his mind.

_Told you you're a nutter_, Billy says. _Now pay attention. Noir's comin'. What can you do?_

And there he is-barrelling towards Homelander at top speed.

_Well?_

Gritting his teeth, Homelander takes his hands off his stomps. They've stopped bleeding by now, and he can feel them start growing back. He puts his fists up, just in time to hit Noir squarely in the face. And-_ow_, that hurts. He can feel the bones in his arm breaking at the collision, but the pain in his legs is so overpowering that he barely notices the one in his arm.

Noir twists in front of Homelander, stopping his momentum before he can be swept to far away, and turns to look at Homelander.

"I thought taking your legs off would kill you for me," Noir clicks his tongue and hovers in front of Homelander. "Well, let's see if crushing your skull will do that."

Homelander sneers.

"I think it would," Noir muses.

_D'you feel that?_ Billy asks, hovering behind Noir. His chin is leaned on Noir's shoulder, and he's smirking at Homelander. _That heat?_

He does, the heat of the two suns behind him. And-oh. Brilliant, brilliant Billy. Or, well, brilliant Homelander's mind pretending to be Billy. But he'd never have considered that possibility if he hadn't known Billy and his wily way of thought.

The sun. The sun is made of lava. Lava sticks to your body, lava burns you to death. Burns you over and over and doesn’t give you time to heal.

_Time to run again_, Billy sing-songs. Homelander grins, and does.

He shoots out, faster than a bullet, faster than A-Train, barreling towards the sun. Noir is flying after him, so fast that it's impossible to see him. Homelander ignores him, he doesn’t have time to focus on anything other than the horrific pain that pounds through his body. He's flying straight towards the sun, and the heat is burning his skin off, making blood leak out of him.

His eyes melt, trickling down his exposed cheekbones. He can no longer see, and due to his burst eardrums, he can no longer hear. He's made of nothing but bones and pain now, and he can't think, he can't move, he's about to collide into the sun and die. This is it. He'll take Noir with him, and protect Billy, but he's going to die.

He's surprisingly fine with that.

_Are you? _

Homelander shivers.

_You all right with dyin'? Never seein' me again? Don't you want to be with me again?_

_Of course I do, _Homelander replies. What a ridiculous question.

_Then don’t bloody die. _

Fair enough.

He moves, kicking his stumps up and pulling away from the sun. He feels something hard hitting his back, and collapses against it. It's probably one of the planets or moons.

Unable to move or see or hear, Homelander can do nothing but lay there, waiting for himself to heal. He doesn’t know if Noir has fallen for his trap and collided with the sun, or if he's about to come and end Homelander once and for all.

If that happens, Homelander decides, he's not going to fight Noir. He's too tired. He's too scared. Everything feels too heavy. He doesn't want to let Billy down, but he can't- he can't do this forever. As a god, he could fight and fight and never get tired or scared. But he's not a god anymore. He's not sure _what_ he is.

He's just…

He's John.

Just John.

Maybe.


	24. The End Of Homelander

The first thing he realizes is coming back are his eyes. They melted easily and they grow back easily. He blinks, moving his newly grown eyes back and forth. At first all he can see is light. Piercing, powerful light that blinds him and bruises his tender eyes. He blinks again, trying to get used to the brilliant light, and slowly is able to see again. There's a black spot in the middle of the sun. He can see it moving and fighting, struggling to get away. But that part is probably just in his mind. All he can be sure of is that there is something in there that wasn't there before. His eye sight is superior enough to a human that he can make _that_ out.

He focuses, activating his X-ray vision to see past the sparks and light of the bruises sun. He still can't see so well, but that’s because it's too far away for that. His eyesight is back to full force, he won't be to see more then he's seeing right now, no matter how long he waits. He'd be able to hear, if his ears were working. His hearing is superior by far to his eye sight.

His hearing isn't back, quite yet, so he can only imagine Black Noir at this moment, trapped in place, sinking into lava with no lower body left to pull him out. There's no healing when you can't escape from what's wounding you. That's why you need to run away from the things that hurt you.

If he could, he'd grin. But he doesn’t really have the muscles left for that, so instead closes his eyes, and, as if spurred on by losing it's one functioning sense, his body heals his eardrums.

God, he wishes they'd remained broken. Hearing his own voice screaming in agony is bad enough, but hearing his own voice screaming out in _terror_, that's on a while other level. Noir is so scared. Is he scared of dying? Or of the pain? Or is he scared because he knows that it's over, and he failed? He failed at killing Homelander, because where is Homelander now? Who the fuck knows.

But maybe, what Noir's really scared of is being alone. Knowing that he's dying, and he's all alone in death and in his pain. Noir's lived alone his entire life, and now he will die alone. And no one will remember.

He whimpers, or at least tries to-his body isn't quite ready for that level of activity yet. He doesn’t want to die alone, either, doesn’t want to succumb to pain and the black beyond all on his own. He's never thought about death and what it means, before. He'd never thought he would die- well, he fucking knows better now. He almost died a few moments ago (or has it been a few years? He doesn't know-he hopes not, he doesn't want to miss years of Billy's life). Death was real and right there. Looking back, it seems as if he could _see it_, watching him from the heart of the sun.

He could die. Maybe he will. He's not sure if he'll ever die of old age-who knows? There's never been anyone else like him (like _them_\- he reminds himself. Like him and Noir) before so, it's not like he has someone to compare to in that regard. He could just stop aging, who the fuck knows? But he might not. He might die. And when that happens…what then? Where will he go? Will the world just…continue without him?

Well, the world existed before he did, so clearly it doesn’t need him to survive. Which means it could just continue without him. And that thought is, perhaps, the most unsettling thing he's ever come up with in his mind. He feels as if it's literally unsettling him, forcing him out of the status of settlement he's lived in his entire life, where the world revolves around him and not he around it. Where the world existed for him and only him. But if the world doesn’t need him to survive, and can survive without him-

Then that can't be true, can it? He can't be the only important thing, if they world doesn’t really need him to keep existing. He'd already known that, he supposes. There was Billy, he matters, and Billy isn't _him_. But Billy has always felt like an extension of himself, in an odd way. They're so tied together that it's impossible to separate them, even if he wanted to. That's why the idea of Billy dying was so horrific. If Billy dies, the world ends. If Billy dies, he dies. And that's still true. He doesn’t think anything will ever be able to change that. There are just some truths that are eternal. The sun looks yellow from Earth, plants need water to grow, if Billy dies the world will end. Homelander will end it. But now it seems that the world _won't _end if Homelander is gone from it. Unless he takes it with him.

And he doesn’t think he wants to do that right, doesn’t want to bring Homelander out. He's going to have to lay here, for who knows how long, while his body heals, and listen to the sounds of Noir dying. He's defeated Noir, but it's just exposed his own mortality. Noir is dying, sure, but he could die as well.

Dying?_ Is_ he dying? Shouldn't he be dead by now? How long has it been? It's a bit hard to tell the time when you're focusing all your mental energy on not going mad. He decides to ignore Noir for now, as much as possible. Instead he tries to focus on his body and how it slowly and surely heals.

He's getting his skull back, re-growing it over his brain, which has quite luckily been the first thing to grow, even before his eyes. It makes him slightly less confused, which has the unfortunate side effect of focusing his attention into his body and the sanity-ending pain there.

In an attempt to keep his sanity more or less intact, he's forced out of his body again, to instead pay attention to Noir's screaming. He's not sure why it bothers (scares) him so much. He's heard more than his fair share of screaming and crying, many of which he's created himself and it's never bothered (scared) him before.

Well, to be fair it's never been _his_ voice before.

But there's something else, he thinks as he pushes himself up by his elbows (his arms have healed, thankfully) and looks down at his body. Here is his heart, beating powerfully, here are his testicles, making their way back to the land of the living, slowly.

Right. He didn't ever collide with the sun, and he still almost died. Noir has been stuck inside the sun for fuck knows how long, and he's_ alive_. That's the difference. He's never heard anyone let out a dying scream and then…just not die, just go on.

"Is he…just stuck like that forever?" He asks out loud, blinking.

_Seems like_, Billy shrugs, settling down on his lap. _Can't die, can't escape._

He swallows, not wanting to leave Black Noir like that.

_Well, you can't go in there, yeah?_ Billy points out. _Do that and you're off to dead-town._

"I could laser him."

_Yeah, but you ain't gonna do that_, Billy points out.

Right. Because Noir hasn't used lasers throughout this whole fight. Which means that, for some unknown reason, Vogelbaum didn't give him that ability. He's made him stronger, sure, but that's one gift he kept from him. He doesn’t know why Vogelbaum would do that, but for some reason he can't bring himself to use his own lasers. To kill Noir with the gift their father only gave him, and kept from Noir. It's wrong, somehow.

"But he'll…he'll just burn forever."

_Ain't you a smart one?_

"I-I can’t," The thought of leaving and letting Noir burn alive forever makes him want to throw up. He doesn’t know why. It never bothered him before, when he caused pain. Maybe it's because Black Noir looks like him, but for some reason he doesn't think so.

He turns to look at the Billy enthroned on his legs, but the black-haired phantom just shrugs. He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t, he's not fucking Billy. He's just pretend.

If he wants to know the answer to his question, he's going to have to ask the real Billy.

Well. That decided, he collapses back down and waits, patiently, for the rest of his body to heal. When it's done, he sighs and stands up. For a moment he stands there, on the surface of an unknown planet, watching the sun devour Black Noir. Then he shakes his head.

Time to go, Billy tugs at his hand. Time to get back to me.

"Yes," He whispers. It's time to find out who he is.

*

He lays on the peek of the Everest, spread out like a starfish. He's so tired, he just wants Billy. And he's not going to go looking for him all over the world. He can't do it; he's done with their games of chasing and running.

But he doesn’t have to. Things are different now. He's almost died, and he's lost his identity. He's not entirely sure what that means, only that he can feel Billy now, as if he's inside of his heart.

_Listen, then,_ Billy whispers in his ear, sweet and cold all at once. Just like the real Billy. _Listen to me heart, eh?_

He's never done this before, but he knows that he can. He's spent so long listening to Billy's heartbeat, he can find him now. He's never tried this before, but he's never _needed_ Billy as much as he does now. He's never known that he was going to die, just shrivel up and die, if he doesn't see Billy before this moment. He's thought that sometimes, but his heart hurts and feels heavy. It feels literally true, this time. He's going to make his heart stop if he can't see Billy soon.

It doesn't take long before he hears it_. Boom-boom-boom_. Billy's heart calls out to him, and he stands up, flying into the air. His eyes close, so he can focus fully on his hearing. _Boom-boom-boom_.

His eyes fly open and he hovers in the air. He's above a red, large farmhouse. It's dark, the middle of the night, and there's only one window that has light shining out of it. He looks inside, finding each and every one of Billy's team sleeping in a bed. William is there as well, in a bunk bed underneath a little black girl.

And there's Billy. Sitting at a table in the kitchen, drumming his fingers on the wood. Billy's so beautiful, he wants to cry. Instead, he takes a deep breath and swoops down, feeling the tightness around his heart go down until it disappears.

He lands on the ground, leaning against the window. Billy just stares at him for a moment, expression completely blank, and then he leans over and opens the window. As he does so, the smells from inside come wash over the man outside. He can smell the scents of French cooking, and Billy, his familiar and comforting scent. 

"You look confused," Billy says, voice just as dull as his expression. "Ain't never seen you confused before."

He swallows, leaning into Billy slightly. Billy puts his hand up, stopping him.

"Bi-"

"You ain't touchin' me," Billy whispers. "You lost the fuckin' right."

"I know," He does, he understands. "Billy, I'm sorry I scared you. I'm so sorry about Will-"

"Seen you scared before," Billy continues, and the other man isn't sure he heard him. "Not often, but seen it. After you raped me, and I made you leave. Not confused, though. That's bloody new."

"I'm sorry."

"Odd, ain't it? I believe you," Billy glares. "First time I ever have."

"Fi-first time you ever believed me?" That seems hard to believe, and he doesn't want to believe it.

"First time I believe you when you bloody apologize," The black-haired man replies. And then he sighs, letting his eyes run down the other's body. There's a deep sadness in his eyes, and love. Love that's so deeply seated it's impossible to take out. For the first time ever, he wants to pull it out. He doesn’t want Billy to love him anymore. He wants Billy free. The feeling comes over him, shocking him. Where the hell did that come from? It doesn’t matter, it won't leave now. He wants Billy free and happy, and not trapped, in love and suffering. "I knew you'd be back."

"I didn’t," He shakes his head. "I thought I was going to die. But I knew…I know that I’ll always get back to you if I can."

Billy's eyes soften, "I know."

"That's…I think I need to apologize for that most of all," He's shivering now, even though he's not cold. "That I keep…I keep running after you."

"And look- you're bloody naked," Once again, it seems like Billy isn't listening to him. Or is ignoring him. Probably the latter. He thinks that Billy doesn’t actually want him to stop running after him. At least not all the way, even now, after he's done the two things that were supposed to be the deal breakers. He hurt William and he killed the bitch Becca. He wonders if Billy is willing to admit that he-Billy-lied. That he was never really willing to leave for good, to abandon Jo-Home-whoever the fuck he is now. "And covered in blood. The fuck happened, John?"

He blinks, thinking.

John. Is that…who he is? Billy would know, wouldn't he? If anyone would…

"Am I John?" He wonders out loud. Billy sighs and rubs his eyes.

"Seems like it, right now. Come in."

John nods and complies, stepping into the room and sits down on the chair in front of Billy. They look at each other, blue eyes staring into blue eyes, and then Billy clears his throat.

"He didn't kill you, then."

"No, I…I stopped him."

"Right," Billy rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. "I suppose it was too much to expect he'd get rid of you for me."

"Billy," John whispers, looking at Billy, beautiful Billy. And suddenly his wish that Billy would stop loving him gets washed away. He'd die, he can't die. He needs Billy so much. "Please…pleased don't leave me again. I-"

"You said you_ stopped_ Noir," Billy muses out loud, ignoring John. "Not _killed_ him. Explain."

John blinks, and then nods and looks away.

Billy remains silence as John talks, watching John quietly. John tells him everything, everything Noir told him, all the odd emotions that elicited in him.

When John tells Billy about how he'd run away from Earth, he says, "So, I ran away from Earth. Like you."

Billy raises an eyebrow, "Ain't never run_ that_ far."

"No, obviously," John shakes his head, trying to find a way to explain the significance of his actions to Billy. "But…I've never run before, Billy. Not once."

"You ain't never needed to."

He nods, Billy's right, "And I knew what to do, because of you."

Billy just looks at him, and then orders, "Keep going."

John keeps going. He tells him about their fight and how John almost died, and notes how Billy's teeth clench when he hears about that. The reaction makes him feel better, somehow, safer. And he goes on, tells Billy about listening to Noir dying and how awful it had made him feel when he realized there was nothing he could do and had to leave Noir to burn. About how the thought of using the lasers was somehow even worse then leaving him to burn.

That makes Billy snorts, and he says, "You're a fuckin' _creep_. Shoulda killed him."

And then he tells Billy about how he isn't sure who he was anymore.

"And I don’t…" John looks down at his feet. "I don't know why it hurt so much."

Billy snorts, but when John looks up he finds Billy isn't even looking at him, instead watching the night sky, "It's called empathy. Heard of it?"

"Yeah, I've heard it."

"Just never bloody experienced it, have you," He doesn’t even make it into a question, and John shrugs. He's not sure what empathy feels like, so he can't be positive if he's experienced it or not. Billy turns to look at him.

"Billy-"

"So, you ain't God no more, yes?"

John swallows, "Yes."

"So, now what?" Billy tilts his head.

"I just wanted to make a choice," John says bitterly, and then he freezes when he feels tears trickling down his cheeks. He shivers and stands up, wanting to go over to Billy, to touch him. But Billy stands up, moving away from John.

John suddenly feels horror and panic tumble through him. No, Billy can't leave. He can't leave him, John can't be without him, he can't-

"Billy, Billy, please-" John collapses onto his knees, grabbing at Billy's shirt sleeve, trying to keep him in place. "Please, don't leave me alone again-"

There's a calculating look in Billy's eyes as he moves towards John and allows him to burry his face into Billy's lap.

"I just... all I ever wanted was you."

"I know," Billy breathes out, carding a hand through John's hair. "I know."

"It was just…it was just to keep you. Everything, always. From the moment I first saw you at that bar, sitting there alone with all half-drunk glasses of beer around you, everything I've done was for you. Do you understand? I can't live without you."

"John," Billy says softly.

"I didn’t mean-"

"Shh, listen," Billy leans in to whisper in his ear. "D'you remember, how after I offed Translucent, you said, it was…how d'you put it? A courtin' gift from me to you. Well, now it's your bloody turn. You're going to bring me a gift. You're going to kill every single supe there is. Supe terrorists, superheroes, retried ones, their children, babies, geezers, all of them. You're not goin' to leave a single fucker alive. Then, you're goin' to kill every single Vought worker, and destroy every single vial of V. All of it, all of them. And then, when you're done, you'll have me. Forever."

"I will?" He can barely believe it.

"I won't fight you no more, I won't hate you no more. I'll be with you; you'll be my John. Just John. Just us. Can you do that, for me?"

John looks up, "I'll be John?"

"Until the day we die," Billy swears. "You want fuckin' choices? Here's one. You can be a bloody god controllin' the world, or you can be John, with me. And you ain't gonna use your powers no more. You ain't gonna see anyone no more. You ain't gonna see William, ever again. You'll do what I bloody say, and you ain't gonna use your powers. That's the deal. That's the choice."

Adults make choices, children let others make decisions for them.

"Will you do that, for me?" Billy murmurs in his ear, kissing him lightly. John shivers.

"I'll do anything for you," John whispers. "Do you promise? You'll be mine? You won't run away again?"

"Promise. And you promise you'll kill them all?"

"I promise."

"Then we have a deal, darlin'."


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…here we are! The end! Thank you all soo soo much for all the kudos and comments, they really meant the world. I hope you enjoyed the story and our creepy journey together.

The blond woman on screen nods as the CNN music blares. Under her a banner proclaims: _Three Years to Maeve Murder- The Country Mourns_.

"Good morning," The woman says in her severe anchor-voice. John snarls. Fuck, he hates the severe-anchor voice. He can remember how much he had wanted to kill this woman's predecessor every time she interviewed him when he was still Homelander. It had felt really nice to kill her, in the end. She had had a supe child, around five years old, that she'd tried to protect from Homelander when he came to kill it (had it been a girl or a boy? Homelander honestly can't remember). And if he hadn’t put an enormous amount of effort in _not_ killing her- well, Billy didn't particularly care about collateral damage.

In his musingly, he's missed most of anchor-lady's opening. When he forces his attention back to the TV he finds anchor-lady welcoming her first guest.

"I'd like to welcome Professor Robert Shaefer of Harvard, an expert on the super-powered phenomenon and supe-physiology. Professor Shaefer, thank you for joining us."

"Thank you for having me," Professor Shaefer is a handsome, relatively young man. Homelander sits up straight. What a pretty little thing, he should get him, have Billy fuck him in front of J-

At the corner of his eyes, phantom-Billy shakes his head. Sneering in disappointment, John sinks back into his black leather sofa.

"So, Professor, you have a new book. _'The Truth About the Supes'_, and we'll get there in a moment. But first, I would like to give you a chance to say something about the very sad day we're meeting on."

John rolls his eyes.

"Yes, well. First I would obviously send my deepest sympathies to everyone who lost a friend or family member to the Titans Fight-" That was what the mudpeople called Homelander's aborted fight with Noir on Earth- "And the Homelander Cleanse. And I would also like to commend the UN for finally acknowledging the day as a world-wide day of mourning. I think it's important to acknowledge that the casualties- while mostly Americans- were felt world-wide."

"I'm sure this day is hard for you personally, as well. How do you choose to spend it? I know you lost your sister Annite, who we all knew as Ice Princess, to the Homelander Cleanse…"

The professor clears his throat, "Yeah. It's not easy. We'll be meeting as a family later."

Well, clearly he doesn't want to talk about his sister. Anchor-lady seems to realize that, since she quickly changes the subject.

"There has been quite a bit of criticism over the fact that they day chosen for the Remembrance Day is Maeve's death and not the Titans' Fight, that killed nearly twenty five million."

"I can understand that. I personally think, though, that the right decision was made, however-"

"You do?"

"Yes! Today is the day when it all ended. It's mostly pain, of course. But also-to me-a…. well, a feeling of hope. We survived Homelander."

"That's an interesting approach. I can see the wisdom in it."

Jogn snorts. "God, you're a terrible fucking liar," He infroms anchor-lady. Her predecessor had at least been a_ bit_ more convincing.

"Now, your new book," Anchor-lady continues. "You make a few rather incendiary suggestions in it. Let's start with one of the least controversial…which might not be saying so much considering the kind of book you wrote. Your belief that Homelander is still alive."

John snorts. Oh, how _controversial_.

"Yes, I do believe that."

"There are some who would say that statements like that only incite the kinds of violence and mass shootings we've been seeing all across the country."

Oh, yes. The lone wolves that want to 'carry on' Homelander's work (as if he'd left it unfinished). Those are fun, but they're mostly young and frightened men that seem to think killing people will be the best way to gain infamy in world with a wrecked economy and a hatred of outsiders that's grown to almost insane heights.

They don't hold a candle to the Homelander cults that spring up like mushrooms, killing people as sacrifices for Homelander, hoping that would bring him back. Them John absolutely _adores_. If he needs more reason to stay in his personal prison (which he doesn’t) the fact that these cultists are pining for him and killing babies to get him back would do that. He likes sitting in this sofa, watching clips of dead kids and crying mothers and knowing that he's still in the mudpeople's mind, still making them act even when he isn't even trying.

"I'm not suggesting we should _celebrate_ his continued existence," The pretty young professor argues. "I'm saying we should be _aware_ of it. And prepared. Because he may return. Which is why we need to know everything about Homelander. Where he came from-"

"Right. Which leads us very nicely to what is, I'm sure you'll agree, the most controversial part of your book."

"I think I know what you mean, yes," Shaefer nods.

"You claim in your book that the superheroes were synthetically created-"

"What?!"

Before he knows what he's doing, Homelander is up, moving towards the TV with unnatural speed, eyes glaring red. He manages, somehow, to stop himself from punching the screen and breathes out, hard, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. He'd punched a Kindle that Billy had gotten him two years ago, and Billy hadn't gotten him another one since. He really doesn’t want to lose his TV as well. So he forcibly pushes Homelander back down, letting John come out and take his place.

"…I mean, think about it. Logically. How it is possible that for years the only superheroes we knew about were from America? Does it really make sense to assume that no one, anywhere else on Earth, were worthy of being given these powers, if they truly are a gift from God? No one in the Vatican, for example?"

"Smart little boy, aren't you?" John sneers.

"But if not divinely given, how do you explain-"

"The powers? If I had to make a wild guess, I would say that Vought somehow created them. Which would explain how they had so much control over the supes for so long."

"If that's the case, how did they do it?" The blond anchor-lady sounds a bit like how Billy does when he's indulging William when he comes up with his most ridiculous ideas.

"It's…it's really impossible to know. Homelander was very thorough when he destroyed Vought. There's really nothing left."

For some reason- John really can't understand what it is- that does very little to calm him down.

"Oi, you awake?"

John closes his eyes, breathing softly, and mutes the TV as Billy walks in. He immediately feels better and more grounded. Billy's presence always has that effect on him.

"Bloody hell, watchin' the telly at eight in the bloody mornin'? How pathetic can you get?" Billy scowls, slamming bags of groceries down on the small glass table in the kitchen area of the large barn.

"It's good to see you, too, pal," John collapses back on the sofa. He tilts his head slightly, watching Billy as he starts putting the milk products in the fridge. Billy's wearing a brown turtle-neck that hides basically all of his skin. Unfortunate. "Can you take your shirt off, please-please?"

He tries adding a pleading tone to his question, but Billy just sighs and slams the fridge closed. John swallows when Billy looks at him. There it is, in his eyes. The sadness and resignation. Nowhere days these two things are as deeply ingrained in Billy's eyes as the love. And like the love, John doesn't think there's any way to pry them out without destroying what Billy is. Billy can be happy, he can be pleased, but even when he's at his happiest, there's a part of him that's still sad, and you can see it in his eyes. John hates it. His one job in life is to make sure Billy is happy and he's failed at that, spectacularly.

John sighs and pats the cushion besides him, "Come here, buddy."

"What's gotten you so gloomy?" There's a calculating look in Billy's eyes. John knows that look. He's seen it, probably thousands of times during the past four years. It's a look that means that Billy is weary, ready for Homelander to rear his ugly head. It's the closest Billy gets to fear around John. He keeps the fear for Homelander.

Which is the main reason he never lets Homelander out around Billy. Never, ever. The one time he had seen Billy afraid had been enough to pretty much kill him.

John points at the TV, where Professor Shaefer is shaking hands with anchor-lady. "This fucking guy. He says he thinks the supes were _synthetically created_."

"Yeah, read his book," Billy shrugs. "He ain't wrong, you bloody were."

"That's not the point!"

"Ain't it?" Billy strolls over, as calm and composed as you pleased. "Then what's the bleeding point? You worried he'll be able to recreate V?"

"That's a funny joke," John snorts. Billy has finally got close enough to touch, and he takes full advantage of that by grabbing Billy's pale wrists and pulling him on John's lap. Billy growls warningly, but then shivers when John runs a hand down his spine, his had slinking under the turtleneck. It's the only piece of clothing Billy is wearing over his skin. "No one will ever be able to recreate what Vogelbaum did. He was one of a kind."

"Then what's the bloody issue?" Billy's breath hitches when John's hand wonders to his stomach, and he grabs John's arm, halting him. He studies John for a few seconds and then sighs, sounding and looking really disappointed.

Shit. _Now_ what did he do?

"You just want these bleedin' fucks to think you're a bloody god, ain't that it? It hurts t'think the whole bloody world will know you ain't nothin' but a lab rat."

John shrugs. He can't see any advantage in lying, "Do you think they'll stop killing for me if they knew? Probably, right?"

"Some might view that as a bloody positive."

"Come on, Billy, don't act all holier than thou. I killed many, many more babies on your orders. And remember Teddy?"

Billy stares at him, blankly.

"Madelyn Stillwell's kid," John clarifies.

"Ah. Him."

"Yeah, buddy, _him_."

"Look, I ain't sayin' I bloody_ care_ 'bout him," Billy waves his hand, the suggestion seemingly ridiculous. "That ain't means I'd like _more_ dead basins."

"They're _babies_. They don't _know_ anything, what does it matter if they die?" John asks, reasonably. At least he thinks he's being reasonable. The _look_ Billy gives him makes him question that idea.

In an attempt to distract Billy, John says,

"Anyway, I don't think anyone will believe him. The anchor-lady looked at him like he's a looney."

"That he ain't," Billy replies, fingers playing with John's collar. John very carefully doesn’t draw Billy's attention to his movements. It will just make him stop. "He's a smart bloke."

John narrows his eyes, suddenly suspicious. Smart, good looking. Billy didn't tell him he was reading his book-

"Don't tell you I was readin' the book 'cause it's just a bloody book. Ain't never met Shaefer, and saw his bloody face once, the back of the bloody book."

Startled, John ask, "How did you know-"

"Fuckin' bloody hell, I know how your bloody mind works by now, eh? Can't hide nothin' from me."

"I know," John smiles lovingly at Billy, feeling the jealousy and fear that was growing in his stomach vanish. "You know everything."

Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he does it in a mildly fond way. So John's in the clear. It would still be a good idea to change the subject, though. Just to be safe.

"Where's William?" It's a Tuesday, but because of the Remembrance Day William will not be going to his special school for gifted children. It's not the same school as the one Vought sent him to, obviously. But Billy had chosen it because a lot of William's friends from _that_ school had moved to the new one.

Homelander's Cleanse hadn't left the Vought school standing. All of the teachers were dead, which tended to have a bad influence on a school.

"Rachel took him to some get-together of all the lads from the synagogue."

Yeah, that's one thing John isn't particularly pleased with. The fact that Billy has welcomed Becca's family into William's lives with open arms and gusto. He'd never had a grandparent before, so he soaks up Becca's mother's love like a man dying of thirst would take on water. A lot of the love and attention that he used to shower on Billy is now showered on his grandmother. Not that he cares or loves Billy less, it's just that he's less desperate to be around Billy anymore. John doesn’t like that, at all. Billy is the only connection he has to William now, so he doesn’t want that connection loosening in anyway. Even if the therapist Billy took William says that it's 'healthy to encourage independence, you can't let him sleep in your bed forever, even if it does make him feel safe'.

The biggest problem, though, is Becca's sister. Rachel. John isn't particularly fond of the way she tells William stories about Becca and makes her sound like some kind of fucking _saint_. The fact that she's the one mostly in charge of William's Jewish education wins her a few points back-it gets William out of the house every Saturday for a few good hours. But she loses some points again by every so often trying to convince Billy to let William live with her. She's started doing that less, not like in the first year or so where almost every second conversation she had with Billy was about that. But it still comes up, once in a while. John hates the implicit assumption that she makes that Billy isn't capable to caring for William, or is somehow _unworthy _of him. Billy is William's father, he's much more worthy of him then the two Saunders bitch's.

"He's be out most of the day," Billy is saying. "Rachel and Jeff are takin' him to the zoo after the playdate, with Rebecca."

Jeff is Rachel's new husband, who's fat and ugly and reminds John of fucking _Mesmer_. Rebecca is the screeching baby Rachel had pushed out a few months ago. It's really hard not to leave the barn when they come over, and wring that thing's neck. Man, the pop when her head is dislodged would be so satisfying…

"Fuck, I wish they would have named that baby something else," John groans. Every time he hears about Rebecca- Rachel's-daughter, he thinks about Billy's-replacement-for-him.

But, wow, saying that out loud was insanely stupid. Billy sneers, and pushes himself off John's lap, punching him in the face on the way, for good measure or something.

"You fucker," Billy hisses, completely ignoring the fact that his knuckles are bleeding slightly. "You fuckin' cunt-"

"I'm sorry," John says immediately, trying to think over the furious scream of _'Billy's hurt! Billy's hurt!_' that's going around in his mind. "I shouldn't have said that-"

"Think so?" Billy sneers.

"Billy, you're hurt-"

Billy looks down and scoffs, "Bloody hell, calm your bloody tits. It's nothin'."

"I-yeah," John mumbles. "That's probably true."

That gets an eye roll out of Billy, and then he says, "I'm gonna leave, now-"

"Don’t, please," John scrambles up from the couch and rushing over to Billy. Billy takes a step backwards, hand up. John forces himself to stop in his tracks. He knows how badly things would end if he tries to physically force Billy to stay with him.

John takes a deep breath and moves back to the sofa, sitting down again. Immediately, Billy seems to relax, his foot moving away from the outer door (the barn has two doors, both, obviously, covered in zinc. And Billy only ever opens one at a time, to stop John from being able to see outside). They look at each other for a moment and then Billy takes one step towards the sofa.

"I'm sorry," John says quietly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you bloody shouldn't have."

John rubs his face, "It's just hard, sometimes-"

"What? Not bein' a bloody monster?"

"Yes!" John snaps, then shakes his head. "No, that's wrong. I'm not trying to not be a monster. I'm just…trying not to care so much what goes on outside of this room."

"You ain't succeedin'," Billy replies. "Or you wouldn't give a damn about Shaefer."

John glares, "I want to have something, ok? Is that so hard to belie-"

"And that somethin' is dead basins, yeah?"

"I just don't want the world to forget Homelander, is that so bad?" John snaps. "You already killed him, can't you at least let me remember him?"

They stare at each other for a moment, and John carefully motions Billy mutely to come back to the sofa and him. Billy watches his hand, and then he nods gently and comes over, settling back on John's lap.

"_Don't_ talk about Becca," Billy whispers, eyes sparkling with fury.

"I didn't-"

"You know you did."

"Right."

"And stay away from Rebecca," Billy's eyes search John's face, but John's not sure what he's looking for, so he frowns.

"I- yeah, obviously I will. I don't leave. You know that," There are motion sensors and cameras all around the barn that make sure of that. Not that he would leave, even if he could. He chose to be here, and he's going to abide by that choice, until the die he dies.

"I know," Billy replies. "Thought you might break the good behavior to kill her. 'Cause she's a reminder of my Becca."

"Don’t," John warns. "Don’t call her that, Billy."

When Billy just glares at him, he forces his voice to soften and allows the desperation he's feeling to creep into it.

"Please don't call her that," He whispers. "Billy, please."

Billy watches him for a moment, and then he asks, "It hurts you, don't it?"

John swallows and brings his hand up to play with Billy's hair, "You need a haircut."

"No, not yet."

"Please?" John ducks in and kisses Billy lightly. Billy doesn’t move, doesn’t kiss back or move away. He just sits there and lets the kiss happen. "You look…uncared for with long hair."

"Bloody hell, you think I'm a lad or somethin'? I don't need bloody _carin' for_-"

"I know," John murmurs. "I like to do it, anyways."

He's a bit surprised when that gets a small smile out of Billy. A soft and loving smile that makes John's heart clench. He closes his eyes as Billy runs his fingers through John's hair, falling into the familiar sensation of Billy's flesh connecting with his. It's soft and warm and loving.

Then Billy whispers into his ear, "You ain't answered my question."

"Hmm?"

"It hurts you, don't it? When I love Becca."

John shivers, "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it hurts."

"I know," Billy purrs into his ear. "But I do. Love her. So much. Love her now more than ever before. You killed her, and enshrined her in me heart."

"She wasn't a fucking angel, Billy."

"She weren't the devil, neither," Billy replies. "She was just a woman. One of many."

"Then why did you choose her?" John demands, still refusing to open his eyes. "Because I wasn't. I wasn't one of many, I was one of a kind-"

"That what you are?"

John bites his lip and rests his head on Billy's shoulder, "One of two."

"That's it."

"Billy, please just answer me," John begs. "You never have. Why did you choose her? Why her?"

Billy is silent for a few moments, and then he says quietly, "She were there."

John opens his eyes and moves slightly away from Billy, so he can look him in the eye, "What?"

"She were there," Billy repeats. "She were there, and I needed someone who weren't you."

"So…she was just convenient," John feels a bit like his mind has been blown, and he smiles, ridiculously pleased with himself.

Billy shrugs. He doesn’t seem to mind that interpretation, "Becca's good, I needed good after you."

"You didn't think I was good?"

Billy glares up at him, "Did I bloody say that?"

"No-"

"Then don't put fuckin' words in me mouth."

John nods numbly.

"But," He says, really needing to understand. Billy rolls his eyes. "You…you did-"

"I did love her, yeah."

"But she was," John thinks for a moment. "What…a convenient choice?"

"I…" Billy shakes his head. "Don't like thinkin' that."

"That's what she was, though. She wasn't the great love of your life you made your friends think. She was just better than me."

Billy nods, so John was right. He grins, then kisses Billy gently on the nose.

"I love you so much," He says brightly.

Billy snorts, then leans in, "We got till the evenin'."

John grins. They have until Billy leaves the zinc-covered shed where Homelander spends his time. Billy will run inside as soon as he gets a message on his phone that the front gate has been opened and be there when William comes into the house.

Billy cares very deeply for William- that's clear to anyone with fucking eyes. But John is the only one who knows that that isn't the only reason why Billy keeps William with him. The second reason, nearly as important as the first, is as a backup plan if Homelander ever comes back. He teaches William to fight, spending hours every Saturday evening practicing with the boy.

And also, part of why John is still here with Billy is as a backup for William. If Billy fails with William and doesn’t manage to raise him into a good and kind man (John isn't entirely sure what that would mean, but Billy seems to have a very clear picture in his mind: someone who's entirely unlike both of them) and William needs to be stopped…well, that's what Homelander is for.

John places his hands on Billy's hips, pulling him so he's practically on his chest, and Billy leans forwards, brushing his lips against John's. John takes his hand off one of Billy's hips and puts it on the back of his neck instead, pulling his head closer and rubbing the flesh there gently. 

He kisses Billy, gently at first. Just a soft press of lips. Billy's lips feel like rose petals on his skin (Jesus, he can't tell Billy he's thought that, he'd never hear the end of it), and he groans a bit, tightening his hold on Billy's neck while he moves his palm softly to lay on Billy's ass. He runs his hand over the clothed but and squeezes.

Billy tries to push his mouth away from John, but he keeps his hold on Billy's neck, forcing him to stay in place. He kisses Billy again, and again, until finally Billy sighs deeply and relaxes back into the kiss, bringing his hand up to cup John's cheek.

John opens Billy's mouth with his tongue and slips in, running his tongue over Billy's teeth while at the same time he squeezes Billy's ass harder. While Billy is distracted by John's mapping of his mouth, John takes his hand off Billy's ass and slips it into Billy's pants and underwear, trailing his hands over Billy's flesh.

Billy groans into John's mouth, and he pulls away, leaning his head on John's shoulder, keeping his hand on John's cheek. He shivers as John opens his jeans and shoves them down.

"Here," John whispers and brings his fingers up to Billy's mouth. Obediently, Billy parts his lips and takes John's fingers in. John shivers as Billy's tongue laps saliva on his fingers, while his eyes, cunning and weary, study John. Clearly, Billy knows the affect he has on Billy with his tongue.

Billy sucks on John's fingers longer then is strictly necessary, but John isn't going to be the one to stop it, not when Billy's eyes are studying him so intensely, and not when his tongue is doing circles around his fingers. As far as he's concerned, they can sit here until William gets home.

Billy smirks around John's fingers, and John realizes that his mouth is slightly open. But really, who can blame him? The sight of Billy's pink lips closed around John's fingers is really something else. John shivers, using his free hand to wrap around Billy's shoulders.

The black-haired man licks the space between two fingers, and then bites down, hard enough to draw blood. John hisses when Billy spits his fingers out, smeared with blood and saliva, his lips painted red with John's blood. Fuck, what a beautiful sight.

"Right then," Billy says, his voice far to composed for John's liking. "Get in there, then."

"Yes, sir," John says dryly, and slips a finger into Billy.

He can't go very far without lube- the spit and blood isn't enough. There's lube all over the barn, and they'll get up in a moment and go over to the bed. But John can't wait for even the few seconds it would take to get there. He needs to put something inside of Billy, to mark up his territory. So he wiggles the tip of his middle finger into Billy's ass. They gasp out loud at the same time, and John covers Billy's mouth with his own as he forces his finger a bit deeper in.

"Fuck, Billy," John groans. "We should spend all day doing this. Why do we ever do anything else?"

"'Cause I got shite to do," Billy replies, voice still completely even. "Got work-"

"Yeah, work," John snorts. Billy went back to working for the CIA after the death of the president. He's gotten himself a desk job, now, which is honestly one of the biggest sacrifices Billy could have made for John. Billy loved his job, the rash of adrenaline he got from it, the savagery and suffering he could inflict on people without the need to feel bad about it.

But Billy understands that he can't work out in the field anymore. It's too dangerous. If Billy is severely hurt, John wouldn't be able to keep himself in the barn. He won't be able to keep Homelander at bay. And if Billy is killed-Homelander will kill the world. It's as simple as that.

So, he works in the CIA offices in NYC, most of his work consisting of making up attack plans for other agents. He works nine-to-four every day, going to the office after taking William to school and making sure he's always home by the time William is back. He doesn’t, John knows, wants William to be alone in the house with John.

Which leaves early in the morning and late at night for John to fuck Billy into the mattress and make him scream out. Billy usually comes into the barn after William has gone to sleep, usually around nine thirty or so, and he leaves at six thirty, before William wakes up.

It's problematic. Billy has a life outside of John. His black friend (Mother's Milk- John really doesn’t want to know how he got that nickname) comes to see him almost every week, bringing his daughter to hang out with William while he and Billy talk quietly about what a fucking dump America has become ever since the supes were taken out of the picture. His other two friends aren't in his life anymore. Homelander had killed both of their supe girlfriends, after all.

But John…. he doesn’t have any life other than Billy. Even William was taken from him. He only has Billy now. It's enough, he just wants _more_ of it. He spends his days laying on his bed, looking up at the black ceiling and listening to Billy. He listens to him work, typing on a computer and shouting orders to his minions. When Billy is particularly bored, he talks to John, though it sounds like he's talking to himself, cursing and complaining about all the 'bloody fuckin' idiots' he has to deal with on a daily basis.

Those days are better than the ones where he has to just lay there, listening to Billy and not being acknowledged by him. When Billy comes back at night those days, John is calm and fucks Billy languidly and gently. On the days where Billy doesn’t speak to him, he fucks him hard and fast, biting his chest and holding his wrists in vice-grips to leave marks that stay for days. He only calms down after he pulls out of Billy, smearing his belly with the last spirts of come, and sees his marks redden Billy's flesh.

Those aren't the worst days, though. The worst are the days where Billy doesn’t come home after work. Those are the days when William sleeps over with friends, or his aunt, and Billy doesn't need to be home to welcome him or pick him up. On some of those days, instead of coming home to spent more time with John, he goes out with his coworkers to get drunk.

He always gets hit on during those nights. Every fucking time. Billy, at forty-two, is still incredibly handsome and striking. Sometimes John considers that he would prefer it if Billy was maybe a bit less attractive. He has dreams, once in a while, of breaking Billy's nose and taking a knife to his face. Just to make sure that no one ever tries fucking him again. He wakes up from those dreams and rolls to the side before throwing up on the ground. When Billy gets to the barn and sees the puke on the floor, he looks up at John, so furious and hurt that John always throws up again.

Not that he has anything to worry about. Billy has rejecting advances down to an art. He's gentle and kind, but firm. He never claims that he's already in a relationship- as far as everyone in the world other then Billy, William and John are concerned, Billy is single. Homelander supposedly died fighting Maeve, and Becca died in the bombing of William's school. What he does do is tell the men and women that he's flattered, but not interested. He's got a kid waiting for him at home, he's not interested in relationships right now. And no, he's not interested in one-night stands either. He's a widower, he's still mourning the death of his wife.

John doesn't have to worry about Billy changing his mind and letting someone fuck him, or fucking someone else. He's more secure in Billy's affections then he ever has. Now, if Billy cheats on him, Homelander will be released, and John knows that Billy really, really doesn’t want to let that happen.

So, that's not the problem. The problem is that Billy takes every opportunity he gets to get pissed drunk. There's that sadness and resignation at work. Things can't get better, Billy accepts that. But sometimes he needs to get drunk to survive it.

Now that William's getting older (he's turning thirteen in a few months, which means something Jewish that John doesn’t care enough about to understand. The only part of it that affects John is that William goes to lessons with his aunt's Rabbi with other boys his age to learn…stuff. Jewish stuff. It means that William is out of the house for an extra two hours every Saturday, which John is particularly pleased with) there's more and more time when he's out of the house. He's going out with friends more, to see movies or going to the arcade, and he comes home later at night then he used to.

And John isn't sure what he thinks about that. On the one hand, it gives him more time alone with Billy, which is obviously one hell of a plus. But on the other hand, it gives Billy more time to go out with his friends drinking. John isn't sure why Billy has to go out and drink- he could drink at home with John.

"Work," Billy drawls, and then shoves himself down onto John's finger. He hisses loudly, shivering.

"Jesus, Billy, careful!" John snaps. Billy just smirks wickedly at him, so John rolls his eyes and slips his finger out. He stands up, taking Billy along with him, and flies over to the bed.

The bed is from the penthouse. Billy had stolen a lot of things from there after he and John talked at the farmhouse and Homelander was sent out on his seven-months killing spree. Apart from the bed, he'd also taken a few bottles of the best alcohol Homelander had stashed (they were all finished by now. Billy had drunk them all during Homelander's Cleanse), a huge television, William's favorite toys and books, and a few of Billy's favorite books.

What's good about the huge bed is how soft it is, and how bouncy, which means that when John drops Billy on it, his body is enveloped by the mattress and then comes back up slightly, his muscles straining.

"Move it," Billy snaps as John hovers in the air above him. He used to fight John over using his powers during sex, but he's given up on that fight years earlier. Billy had figured out fairly quickly that sex without powers really wasn't as good.

John grins and grabs the lube bottle sitting on the night table and squeezes the gel into his fingers. He rubs his hands together as Billy sheds the rest of his clothes and throws them on the floor. John sighs deeply as Billy shamelessly spreads his legs and shoves his ass into the air, exposing his already slightly wet hole.

"Fuck," John sucks in a breath. "I never get sick of that sight."

Billy doesn’t even design that with a response. Which is fine. John will get a reaction soon enough. He leans over and puts one hand on Billy's thigh to make sure his legs stay splayed. He licks his lips and ducks down, burrowing into the crevasse of Billy's body. Taking a deep breath, he licks his tongue and then pushes inside, licking at Billy's entrance.

"Fuck! Bloody fuck!" Billy snaps. "Bloody warn me before-"

"Shh," John hushes and wiggles his finger into Billy, opening the way for his tongue. He licks inside of Billy, tasting him. He starts moving his finger in slow circles while he sucks inside Billy. When Billy is slightly opened up, John brings a second finger into him.

After a while, when Billy's body is sweat-covered and his chest is going up and down erratically, he slips his tongue out, making more space for his fingers. He places a third one in, and moves his mouth forward. He licks Billy's rock-hard dick, which makes Billy gasp, before pulling his hand over his mouth to shut himself up.

"Why do you do that?" John sighs and grabs Billy's hand, taking it off his mouth. "It's just us here, let me hear you."

"Fuck you," Billy, predictably, replies. And then he puts his hand to his side, also predictably.

John smirks and places soft kisses on Billy's dick. Billy shivers, and then yelps when John takes the tip of his dick into his mouth and runs his tongue over it.

"Bloody fuckin' hell," Billy groans, and John looks up to see him trying to pull away from John's mouth. Another predictable outcome. Why does he_ do_ that? He was the one who started kissing John. Billy does that so often, it drives John fucking _nuts_, how Billy always tries to deny pleasure, to move away from it.

It's the sadness, again. Billy finds happiness threatening and difficult to accept. When was the last time Billy was happy? Fully, completely happy? Probably when he and Homelander had first been together. And any reminder of that time scares Billy, because of how it had ended.

But he wants happiness, though, desperately. Which is why he begins sexual encounters between the two of them. Or at least that's what John thinks. He's not always sure what goes on in Billy's mind.

Well. There's nothing to do but plough in.

John slicks his dick with the lube covering his fingers and flips Billy over. Billy goes easily, shuffling on his elbows and knees and thrusting into John shamelessly.

"Hey, calm down," John soothes. "I’ll give you what you need, pal, don’t worry."

Billy just snorts and places his head on the mattress, which strains his back.

"Fuck," John sighs, running a hand through Billy's spine as he aligns his dick. "God, Billy, you're so fucking beautiful, begging for my dick. You need me, don't you? You need my dick in you, need to be filled up by me. Isn't that what you need? I don't know how you get through the day without a dick in you."

He slips the tip of his dick into Billy, holding on to Billy's shoulder with one hand for leverage. Billy hisses as John sinks in, slowly and patiently, until his dick is completely seated inside of Billy. He groans as his member is enveloped by that furnace, leaning against Billy's back, so he's covering him like a blanket.

John slips one hand around Billy's waist, and then starts pulling the two of them up into the air. He starts to thrust.

*

Afterwards, Billy slips his underwear and jeans back on and settles on the sofa chair to turn the TV back on. He channel surfs through a memorial service in Alabama with a screaming priest who informs his listeners that Homelander was possessed by the devil and that's why he killed all the other supes.

Apparently, Homelander died when he fought the devil inside of him. He had to sacrifice himself to protect the rest of humanity. He should be made a saint. The priest doesn't mention the fact that Evangelicals don't really have saints, but maybe Homelander is meant to be the first.

Billy bursts into open, loud laughter that brings a smile to Homelander's lips at the stunned silence that greets that announcement.

"What a bloody wanker," Billy says around his laugh, and flips to the next channel, which is showing a news report about the parents of the supe babies and little children that Homelander killed.

"You take it on day at a time," One of the mothers says over video footage of a black-haired baby laughing and spinning around in the air. "He would have been five now. Sometimes I try to imagine what he would have been like, what he would have been able to do."

John looks to see what Billy's reaction to that will be. Billy just scowls, and says, "That’s all she bloody cares 'bout. What he _could have done_."

"I'm sure most supes' mothers feels like that," John points out. Well,_ felt_. There are no mothers with living superpowered children left. "As a general rule, the more powerful supes get better gigs at Vought. That's why they allowed Vought to give their babies V- to get them on the Seven, potentially."

"Aye," Billy growls at the screen, which now shows a half-circle of sad looking women holding pictures of babies. The channel is flipped again, before John can get a good look.

"Billy-"

"They don't give a fuck 'bout their kids," Billy clenches his teeth together. "They only care that they didn't get the bloody cash they wanted out of them."

"Probably," John shrugs.

Billy huddles into himself and flips the channel again.

While Billy watches a profile of one of the people that died in the Titan's Fight (the media is going to have material form Homelander's attacks until the end of fucking time), John slowly gets out of bed and moves over to the kitchen area. He slips on his sweatpants and opens the fridge to see what Billy got him.

A lot of meat, it turns out, so John decides to make steaks. Simple, and Billy _loves_ red meat. Which is probably why he got John so much of it.

John fingers the label of the supermarket on the packet of meat. Billy shops for his food somewhere else then where he shops for William and Billy's food. And he always pays cash. If anyone ever comes snooping, they won't find any paper trail that shows there's more than two people in the household.

John thinks that Billy, in all honestly, is a little paranoid. He shops for John's clothes online using an account he set up under a fake name that's full of Homelander's money that he stole immediately after Homelander killed the president, and has the clothes sent to a laundromat a few blokes away from his office.

None of these things seem particularly necessary to John. All the mudpeople think he's dead, and even if someone somehow figures out that he's not, and where he is, why would they do anything to change it? They know what he's capable of now. Why would they want to antagonize him? He's been silent for four years, and he's already in a prison. It's a nice prison, sure, and it's a prison of his own choice. But it's a prison nonetheless.

Despite that, John kind of likes the fact that Billy goes shopping for him separately. He likes to imagine Billy roaming the aisles of the store, frowning at the food and trying to decide what John would want. William can have his shopping; John wants his own.

He always just wants Billy's undivided attention.

While the steaks sizzle and cook, John keeps one eye on Billy, who's currently watching a report about new forms of plant life that are growing in the crater Homelander and Noir made out of Texas.

Billy sniffs the air, stretching his neck over the sofa back to look at John, "Steaks. To bloody early for steaks."

John raises an eyebrow, "You once had steak at four in the morning."

"Well, I was bloody hungry then," Billy replies, as it's an obvious answer.

Smirking, John looks back to the steaks. Yeah, he had been hungry all right. It had been after a marathon of a night, where they hadn't slept a wink. William had been in California for the week with his grandmother and Billy had taken a few days off work. He hadn't left John's barn that whole time, and barely left his bed. He even had John bring him food, laying on his back and complaining about a soar ass. It was a good weekend.

He'd spent the rest of that week drinking until he had to be driven home by one of his friends and spent the rest of the night crying into a pillow in his bed.

"Well," John says brightly. "It's too late for that now. Do you think you can handle steaks at twelve?"

"Might," Billy says dryly. "Make mine medium-rare."

"Buddy, I know how you take your steak," John sighs and slips the steak into a plate. "Come on, food's ready."

That's another thing that's changed in the last four years. John has learned how to cook. Billy, who already needs to cook for William and himself, just outright refuses to cook for John as well. So a few days after John moved into the barn, he bought him around ten cookbooks and left him to fend for himself.

John, with too much time on his hands, had taken it as the challenge it was meant as. He's learned that there was something ridiculously satisfying in seeing Billy eat things that he'd made. It's almost like Billy is taken in a part of himself into his body.

They eat in silence, sitting one in front of the other. John spends most of the meal looking at Billy's throat as he swallows. Billy, on the other hand, is focused on the food in front of him.

When they're done, Billy goes back to the sofa and takes out his laptop to get some work done. John sits on the floor, leaning his head on Billy's knee and closes his eyes. After a few minutes he hears Billy sigh, resigned, and then there's a hand stroking through John's hair.

Opening his eyes, John turns to look at the muted TV. There's a photo of Maeve on a huge screen behind a panel discussing her death. She's smiling in the picture, turned sideways to show her face, her long red hair obscuring her chest, but it's not a real smile. Her real smile had wrinkled her eyes and exposed her teeth. Her fake smile was closed mouthed and makes her eyes squint just a bit.

One Vought worker or another had crafted that smile for Maeve, just like another one had crafted Homelander's laugh. It's definitely more attractive then Maeve's natural smile. But, seeing the fake smile makes John miss the natural one.

He pulls his legs up against his chest and leans his head deeper into Billy's leg. He thinks about Maeve's death. He'd found her in a rundown building where the homeless of Cape Town (he's not sure how Maeve got there) go to drink and get high. She'd sheered her hair and was wearing a huge sweatshirt and torn jeans. She had suddenly looked much older than she had last time John had seen her.

Then she'd twitched in her seat on the floor, moving some of the bottles of booze and syringes of drugs that surrounded her. Homelander had looked down at them, noting that if Maeve was a mudperson, all that alcohol and drugs would have killed her a long time ago.

"I…. thought you might… forget me," Maeve had croaked out.

Homelander had shaken his head, mutely.

"Wish…wish you'd have… started with me," Maeve had continued. "Killed me…first…Elena…"

He'd nodded, understanding. Elena had died in a protest against Homelander. There had been so many supes at the protest, Homelander couldn't resist lasering the whole stadium down. He hadn't even noticed Elena there.

Homelander had leaned in and placed his hand on Maeve's skull. He couldn't tell her why he'd saved her for last. Couldn’t tell her that he didn't want to kill her, had desperately hoped she would die without his help. Like he'd thought before, he hated Maeve the least.

For a moment, he had considered just not killing her, and leaving her to drink herself into a stupor for the rest of her life. But he'd made a promise, had made a choice. And it was a kindness, really. Maeve had failed to protect Elena. He could understand wanting to die under those circumstances. It had been a mercy killing.

Once it was done, the only thing he could think was that he was finished, and now he was going to have Billy and could be John.

"Oi," John feels Billy slap his head. "Bloody hell you moping about?"

John shakes his head, dislodging the thoughts of Maeve from his mind and looks up at Billy. His beautiful, beautiful Billy. Who will be his until they die. He grins, "It was worth it."

"Hmm?" Billy tilts his head, frowning. "What was?"

"Homelander's death," John whispers. _And your pain_, he adds in his mind. _At least now you're safe and with me_. "It was worth it."

Billy hesitates, then leans down to hug John from behind, and John feels a tear hitting his shoulder from Billy's eyes. Billy doesn’t say anything, but John can tell that he thinks it was worth it as well.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["It's all right."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167591) by [koy_id](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koy_id/pseuds/koy_id)
  * [El dios necesita amor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308813) by [Duirandom1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duirandom1/pseuds/Duirandom1)


End file.
